


In the Hall of the Mountain King

by butterflyslinky



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Evil Thranduil, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 24,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4900336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The orcs never showed up and the elves won the battle. Now Erebor is under the control of Thranduil, who will ensure obedience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Story has no regular posting schedule. It will be posted as it's finished.

Bilbo tensed. There were footsteps nearby, and though the elves rarely ventured this low into the mountain, he couldn’t be certain they wouldn’t. After all, where better to plot a rebellion than in the lowest catacombs of Erebor?

But no. Those footsteps were too heavy to be elvish. One of the dwarves, perhaps, who had escaped their watchful eyes and slipped into the tombs of the kings, perhaps to pray or simply to hide. Well, Bilbo was hiding. Perhaps he would soon have a companion.

He listened, barely breathing, even now not daring to take off his ring. Not yet. Not until he knew who it was, down here in the dark.

The footsteps were uncertain. Stumbling, as though the dwarf was very tired or perhaps drugged. It was possible. Bilbo tried not to watch what happened up above too often, but he knew that the dwarves were worked to exhaustion and if they fought, they were beaten or imprisoned or starved. Sometimes all three.

(That reminded Bilbo that it was about time to check on the dungeons, the next time he ventured out. Kili might be too far gone to save, but the rest would be glad of his presence.)

The footsteps grew closer. Bilbo kept a hand on Sting, ready to strike if he needed to. He peered into the dark and caught sight of a familiar dwarvish form.

“Hello?”

The voice was cracked, dry, weak, but Bilbo still knew it well.

He screamed.


	2. Chapter 1: Three Weeks Earlier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is over.

“Thorin Oakenshield is dead.”

The words were heard over the battlefield, where elves and dwarves still fought over the treasure deep in the mountain. In an instant, though, it all stopped as all turned their attentions to Thranduil, who had just arrived.

The silence hung over the battlefield for a long minute before Thranduil continued. “The King Under the Mountain has fallen to my blade. As such, I claim his kingdom by right of conquest.”

“You claim nothing!” From among the combatants, Fili stepped forward, his golden hair stained with blood and his sword quickly growing dull from overuse. “I am the heir of Thorin Oakenshield, and we will not yield to any elves!”

Thranduil merely chuckled. “Won’t you?” he asked, his voice soft. “Your army is barely half what it was. My men outnumber yours three to one. If you continue to fight, you will all be slaughtered and the mountain will fall to me anyway. But if you need more persuading…” Thranduil snapped his finger and an elven guard appeared, dragging Kili to the center of the field, a knife held at his throat. “I can certainly start with him.”

Everything remained still for a minute. Fili glanced at Balin. The old adviser’s face was a mask of grief as he nodded slightly. Kili’s eyes were wide, even as he tried to shake his head no. The other dwarves remained still, waiting for Fili’s decision.

Fili’s jaw clenched, but he threw down his sword. “We surrender,” he snarled.

Thranduil smiled, but his eyes remained cold. “A wise decision,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’m sure we can still come to an agreement about this mountain.”

*

Fili was given one hour to consult with his advisers. Of course, the only one still alive and in a position to do anything was Balin, who may have been a bit too emotional to be any real use.

“We’ve surrendered, which means we’re subject to their terms,” Balin said. “Probably should have negotiated before you dropped your sword.”

“Should have negotiated before this started,” Fili snarled. “And I’m in no position to make demands. Thranduil still has my brother.”

“That does rather give him an edge, yes,” Balin said.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Fili cried. “Roll over and let him simply take Erebor? Lead our people for another two centuries of wandering before we’ve rebuilt enough strength to do this all again? Let my brother die for want of gold?”

Balin sighed. “I understand this is difficult,” he said. “But being a king is never easy, Fili. You know that.” He paused, letting Fili catch his breath before continuing. “Meet with Thranduil. Hear his terms. We’ll negotiate as best as we can, but above all, you must keep our people alive. If we are cast out, we will survive. If we must subject ourselves to his rule, we will survive. But if you go in and try to kill Thranduil, or if you put your brother above your people, we will all die, and that would be the ultimate dishonor.”

“Even if it means letting my brother die?”

There was silence for a moment before Balin spoke. “Being king means that sometimes, there is no right decision. And sometimes you have to let one die for the sake of many.”

Fili’s eyes squeezed shut and the tears started to fall.

*

Half an hour later, Fili had to fight the tears.

He and Balin had arrived in Thranduil’s tent to find the elf king along with a dozen guards, one of whom still held a knife to Kili’s throat. Kili was bound and gagged and it was all Fili could do to sit down across from Thranduil without throwing a knife at somebody.

“So,” Thranduil said, looking over his steepled fingers. “Have you reached a decision, Your Majesty?”

Fili could hear the mockery in Thranduil’s voice, but a nudge from Balin was enough to keep him from lunging. “Yes,” he said. “We will hear your terms.”

“Excellent.” Thranduil’s smile was more unpleasant than ever and Fili had to clench his fists not to jump the table and rip the elf king’s hair out. “My terms are simple. The mountain and all the treasure in it belong to me. However, I see no need to cast your people out. They are good workers, and if they will obey, I will be glad to make use of their services. You will be their King still, but you will answer to me and enforce my laws. I myself will oversee the mountain and leave my son in charge of the Greenwood. Is that understood?”

A squeeze to his shoulder was all Fili needed. “My people will not obey the laws of an elf,” he growled. “We would wander for a thousand years before we would be ruled by you.”

Thranduil sighed and nodded to the guard holding Kili. The guard threw the dwarf to the ground and began kicking him, hard. Kili cried out in pain, curling in on himself as best as he could with his hands bound, trying to protect his vitals. Fili half-stood and Thranduil snapped his finger. The guard stopped, leaving Kili whimpering on the ground.

“Perhaps you would reconsider,” Thranduil said. “After all, your people have wandered a long time. They need a home. And I need those who can mine the mountain for its riches, and craft those riches into sellable goods. It’s a mutually beneficial offer.”

Fili stared at his brother, who looked at him with pleading eyes.

_Protect him._

“All right,” Fili said. “I accept your terms.”

“One last thing,” Thranduil said. “You may have realized that I have found a weakness in you. So I think you’ll understand why I’m keeping him.” He snapped his fingers and Kili was dragged to his feet before being shoved into Thranduil’s open arms. “Don’t worry. We’ll be kind to him…unless of course you need reminding. I hope that isn’t too often though.” He reached out and stroked Kili’s hair in a manner that could be called gentle. “He is rather pretty…once you get past the beard.”

*

The very first thing Fili did as soon as he was safely away from Thranduil’s sight was to seek out the burglar.

“I revoke your banishment,” Fili said before Bilbo could even open his mouth. “It may have led to a lot of trouble, but I understand your reasoning for what you did.”

“Um…thank you?” Bilbo said.

“This is a full pardon from the King, such as it were,” Fili said. “Thranduil may have taken the mountain, but I’m going to do my best to hold onto what power I can before he takes it all. Which is why I have orders for you.”

“Anything,” Bilbo said. “I know what you’ve lost, and I will do what I can to make amends.”

The ghost of a smile flitted across Fili’s lips. “How many people have you seen since the battle?”

“Not many,” Bilbo said. “Bofur and Ori are the only ones I’ve spoken to. Everyone else was too preoccupied in recovering bodies and trying to find out what Thranduil was going to do.”

“Good,” Fili said. “You died in the battle. Or escaped back to the Shire. I don’t care what the story is, so long as it’s public and Thranduil believes it.”

Bilbo blinked. “All right…” he began.

“I’m going to need eyes and ears,” Fili said. “Someone who can sneak about unseen. You managed it for weeks in Thranduil’s own castle; I’m sure you can do it in Erebor. Keep out of sight, but learn all you can. And…if, as I suspect will happen, things go bad, help those who need it.”

Bilbo nodded. “I will.”


	3. Chapter 2: What Happened to Dain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An elf can only rule a mountain for so long without trouble.

The first few days weren’t as terrible as they could have been. True, none of the dwarves were particularly happy about the agreement, but they were all too busy rebuilding to really complain too much.

Thorin’s body was recovered, but somehow, no one ever found time to hold a full funeral, so in the interim, the body was merely put down in the tombs, to be given a proper coffin when time could be found to make one.

Still, they were progressing, even if there was a lot of muttering in Khuzdul about the stupid elves. Not that Fili made any move to discourage it. He couldn’t stop the people from speaking their minds, now, could he?

Dain Ironfoot was not so compliant. He had not marched his army all the way from the Iron Hills just to lose to a bunch of pointy-eared tree shaggers, and he would not be enslaved by Thranduil. Not ever.

He knew that they were outnumbered. He knew that outright rebellion could not end well. But he also knew that he could not allow his people to be subjugated to the rule of a false king.

Little meetings were held as they were, muttered words in Khuzdul. Caches of weapons were placed here and there, ready to be snatched up by dwarvish hands. Codes and signals were sent throughout the ranks, letting all know of what was coming.

It only took three days to organize. Dain would have liked more, but they couldn’t risk it. The only dwarves not informed of the plan were Fili and Kili, who were both too close to Thranduil to do much good.

“The new King is weak,” one dwarf muttered. “Fili must be disposed of…it is unfortunate, but he bent to the will of the elves too easily.”

“Aye,” Dain said. “That is true.”

Some refused to participate, mostly the company of Thorin Oakenshield who still remained loyal to Fili, but others who said it was not worth the risk, that to live in Erebor under an elf was better than to die.

In the end, it was a mere dozen dwarves who would take part, but that would have to be enough.

They waited until the time when most of the other dwarves would be out of the way before Dain sent out the cry. “ _Baruk khazad!”_ he shouted.

The cry went up amongst the rest of the dwarves. They ran for weapons, took them up, and charged for the elven guards.

It lasted for an hour, one glorious hour of shouting and struggling and fighting before all the rebels were either disarmed or dead. The elves had been expecting them, and there would be no victory.

The rebels were ties up quickly, and all the dwarves were summoned to the throne room within the hour. Thranduil hadn’t even had to get up from his throne. “Who organized it?” he asked.

No one moved. Thranduil raised his eyebrow. “I will not hesitate to kill all of you,” he said. “Who was the leader?”

Another moment of silence and Dain stepped forward. “I did, you bloody tree fucker.”

There was muttering amongst the elves. Thranduil looked on Dain coldly. “Of course you did,” he said.

“And what will you do?” Dain taunted. If he was going to die, let it be worth it. “Kill all of us? You can’t work this mountain alone. Too soft. Too dainty. Too stupid.”

Thranduil stood and stepped down the steps. Dain did not flinch. He looked up at the elf king defiantly.

“Your words are poor,” Thranduil spat. “Poor and uncouth. But what else would one expect from a dirty, uneducated dwarf?”

“I am a king,” Dain said. “More king than you are or will ever be. Because you do not understand what it means to be king.”

Thranduil drew his sword. There were several oaths from the dwarves, a few cut off cries, but Dain did not move.

“You are nothing,” Dain said.

The sword came down too fast for Dain to see.

As the dwarves watched Dain’s head fall to the floor, there was absolute silence in the room. Thranduil did not move for several minutes before he looked back at them. “Get back to work,” he snarled. “And remember this if you ever think to fight again.”


	4. Chapter 3: What Happened to Fili

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king has a few edicts.

After the execution, there were two days of quiet before Thranduil summoned Fili into the throne room. Fili grumbled, but he obeyed. He found Thranduil seated in the throne of the King Under the Mountain, Kili in his lap with his hands still tied. Thranduil was petting him rather possessively.

“Ah, Fili,” Thranduil said as though they were meeting for a not-particularly-interesting review of accounting books.

“This had better be important,” Fili growled. “Cataloguing the damage is a rather exhausting task.”

“That’s part of what I wished to speak to you about,” Thranduil said. “How long until your mines and forges can be put to use?”

Fili stared at him. “I really couldn’t say,” he finally answered. “There is extensive damage from the dragon that you failed to stop, along with the general damage that comes from leaving infrastructure to crumble for two hundred years. It could be months before we’re ready to start mining again.”

Thranduil gave him a cold look as his hand moved to Kili’s throat. “I don’t like excuses, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “I kept you dwarves out of the kindness of my heart, and in exchange, we agreed they would work the treasures of the mountain.”

“We have to clear out all the rubble before we can get to the treasures of the mountain,” Fili protested. “And there’s a large horde of gold and gems for you already!”

Thranduil’s hand continued stroking Kili’s throat. Kili whimpered. “Tell them to work harder,” Thranduil said. “Or my hand might just tighten…” He wrapped his fingers around Kili’s throat. “And that would be tragic.”

_Save him._

Fili was still for a moment before he nodded slowly. “I will pass on the message,” he said carefully. “Is that all?”

“No, it’s not,” Thranduil said. He let go of Kili’s throat, leaving him to gasp for breath as the elf king reached for a piece of parchment on the arm rest next to him. “A list of edicts that will be put in place immediately. Read them out to the dwarves when they gather this evening, would you?”

Fili took the list and looked it over, his eyes widening with every line. “But…but you can’t!” he protested when he was finished. “This will break them!”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows. “Exactly.”

“I won’t,” Fili said. “I won’t enforce any of it! You’re going to kill them all!”

Thranduil sighed, but did not speak for a good moment, one of his hands running through Kili’s hair. “You know, I’ve discovered an interesting fact about this brother of yours,” he said casually. “He’s really a sweet and docile little thing, with the right hand to guide him…pretty face, gorgeous throat…and a really fantastic mouth.”

Fili froze. Surely Thranduil wasn’t implying…?

“He broke so prettily,” Thranduil continued. “Would you care for a demonstration?”

“No…”

Thranduil shoved Kili off of his lap and to the floor. Kili whimpered a bit, but didn’t protest. Didn’t try to run. Didn’t fight at all. Was that all it took? Three days and Kili was gone?

Thranduil was parting his robes now and Fili knew what was about to happen. “NO!” he screamed.

Thranduil looked up and Fili swallowed heavily. “I’ll do it,” he whispered.

“I thought you would,” Thranduil said pleasantly. “But next time, my mercy will not be so quick.”

*

“By order of the ruler of this mountain.” Fili’s voice shook, but he had to read it out. There were elven guards standing all around, and Fili didn’t want to learn how quickly they could load and fire a bow. “The following edicts are to be put into effect immediately.” His hands were trembling and he could feel the eyes of all the dwarves on him, his company and the remnants of Dain’s army. “Khuzdul is not to be spoken anywhere in the mountain. Any who is found speaking, reading or writing in Khuzdul will be beaten, or on a second transgression, executed.” This was followed by a number of protests, but Fili pressed on. It was easier to just keep reading. “All books written in Khuzdul or containing any information on the past lines of dwarvish kings or their barbaric customs are to be burned.” There was a cry from Ori, which was quickly stifled. “Regardless of past profession, dwarves may only hold the following positions: mining, smithing, cooking or medicine.” The protests grew louder and Fili was glad that no one had anything they could throw at him. “All dwarvish weapons are to be handed over to the guards immediately. The only tools dwarves may use are those necessary to their craft. All dwarves must obey any command given by any elf at all times. Any dwarf heard insulting or who attacks an elf will be put to death.”

Fili lowered the parchment. His eyes shone bright with anger and sadness, but he had an audience. He had this one chance to rebel. “ _The false king will fall_ ,” he said in Khuzdul. “ _The dwarves shall rise again. Until then, my people, remain strong, and do not give him reason to take the skin from your backs or the heads from your shoulders_.”

The guard behind him grabbed his arm immediately. Fili did not struggle as he was pushed down, hands clutching the railing of the balcony as his shirt was torn off. He kept his head up, meeting the eyes of each of his subjects as the whip began to fall.


	5. Chapter 4: What Happened to Ori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't take a dwarf's language from him.

“Ori!”

Ori looked up. He had found a small corner to hide in, being unused to the hard work of rebuilding a mine and unwilling to go back to the library and see all the books being destroyed. He saw no one.

“Who’s there?” he whispered into the dark.

A moment later, Bilbo winked into existence before him before quickly disappearing again. Ori had to stop himself from crying out in delight.

“Bilbo!” he whispered. “I thought you’d gone!”

“No,” Bilbo hissed back. “Fili just wanted you all to think I was gone.” Ori felt a reassuring hand on his arm. “Where’s your journal? With the record of the quest?”

Ori tried not to smile but couldn’t quite manage. “It’s hidden under my bunk,” he said. “Though they’ll probably find it soon.”

“I’ll get it,” Bilbo said. “I’ve been rescuing the books all day…well, the ones I can, anyway. I don’t know which ones are important, but I’m getting as many as I can.”

“Thank you,” Ori whispered. “Where are you putting them?”

“Where I’m staying,” Bilbo said. “Rather not say where just now.” There was a hitch of breath. “The guards are coming. Don’t look for me.”

Ori strained his ears and could barely make out the soft pitter-patter of Hobbit feet before three guards rounded the corner. “Hey!” one called. “You, dwarf! Why aren’t you working?”

Ori looked at the guards for a full minute before he decided he just didn’t care. “ _die in the flames where you threw those more worthy than you_ ,” he said calmly.

*

Apparently speaking Khuzdul was a high enough offense for the elves to stop everyone working to go see the trial and subsequent punishment. Or maybe it was because Ori was the first one to be arrested under that law.

After all, if they would even punish sweet innocent little scribes for that, who wouldn’t they punish?

Ori didn’t fight as the guards dragged him to the throne room, though they did, punching him at any opportunity. It didn’t matter. He’d had worse on the journey. What were a few hits from some elves going to do to him?

The throne room was packed when Ori was dragged in. He heard cries of protest from his brothers and Dwalin, but they were ignored as Ori was hauled before the king.

No, not the king. Ori would die before he acknowledged Thranduil as the king.

Fili and Kili were both beside the throne. They stood unnaturally still, Kili’s eyes blank and Fili’s jaw clenched. Ori kept his eyes on his true king. Fili had shown defiance to encourage them. Ori would show the same defiance.

“This one was speaking Khuzdul,” one of the guards said without preamble. “Probably insulted us as well.”

“No such of a thing,” Ori said, smirking a bit. “I merely said your hair was too pretty to be hidden in the stone.”

Thranduil held up his hand for silence. “You heard the law, did you not, little dwarf?” he asked softly. “That Khuzdul has been outlawed in this mountain?”

“Aye,” Ori said. “I heard it, I made note of it, and I chose to ignore it.”

“And you remember the consequences?”

“Please,” Dori’s voice broke in. He had managed to push his way to the front of the crowd and was trying to get past the guards to his brother. “He’s just a lad…he didn’t mean any harm…punish me in his stead, just don’t hurt him!”

Thranduil ignored him. “Fili,” he said. “What is this boy’s name?”

Fili’s gaze didn’t waver from Ori’s. “His name is Ori, son of Korin.”

“How old is he?”

“Not yet a year past his majority.”

“A lad!” Dori repeated. “Still young and reckless!”

Thranduil nodded at Dori. “And this one?”

“His brother, Dori, son of Lori.”

“Noted.” Thranduil stood up. “Ori, son of Korin, this is your first offence before this court. As per the law, you will take thirty lashes and your name will be marked. And on your next offence, you will be put to death.”

Ori didn’t move.

“Please!” Dori cried. “Please don’t hurt him!”

“He is young,” Fili said. “And strong. To harm a dwarf like him would be a loss to your workforce…and get three of the most deadly dwarves in this mountain on your bad side.”

“I will not raise a hand to the lad,” Thranduil said. He took the whip from the waiting guard and thrust it at Fili. “I believe I said you would enforce my laws.”

Fili’s eyes widened. “You can’t…I won’t…”

Thranduil’s expression did not change. He merely nodded to a guard, who struck Kili hard across the face, sending him to the ground.

Fili’s jaw clenched all the tighter, but he took the whip. The guards holding Ori tore his shirt off, leaving him on his knees on the floor. Fili approached slowly, his eyes starting to shine with tears.

“I do not want to do this,” he whispered.

“I know,” Ori breathed back. “But it’s worth it.”

Fili glanced at Dori, who was still struggling against the elvish guards. He said a mental prayer to Mahal for forgiveness before he raised the whip and let the first lash fall.

“One.”

Ori didn’t even flinch as a stinging red welt appeared on his back. Fili knew how much it hurt. He knew that Ori would be begging for mercy by the end.

“Two.”

He could hear Nori and Dwalin struggling with their own sets of guards and was almost certain he heard at least one blade drawn, but he didn’t dare to look.

“Three.”

There was more shouting, protests from the other dwarves, but then Fili heard the unmistakable sound of a dozen arrows being aimed and the hall fell silent.

“Four.”

There were tears in Fili’s eyes now, but still Ori did not move, did not give any indication that he was suffering at all. Fili had to admire his resistance—he had broken after the fifth lash of his own beating.

“Five.”

*

Ori groaned as he came to. He had passed out somewhere around the halfway point of the whipping, even though he knew Fili was holding back. Had it been one of the elves, Ori had a feeling he might be dead by now.

Someone was mopping at his back with a damp cloth. Ori focused long enough to figure out it was Dori, bless his fussy overprotective soul.

“Ori?” Dori asked gently. “Can you understand me?”

“Yes,” Ori said, then started coughing. “He didn’t hit me too hard.”

“Noticed that,” came a new voice. Dwalin. Yes, of course Dwalin would be here. “Believe me, if he’d done his best, you wouldn’t be with us anymore. Not that Thranduil knows that.”

“We’re lucky he doesn’t,” Dori said.

“Is Fili all right?” Ori asked.

“He…well, when you passed out he refused to go on, so…so he took the rest of it himself.” There was a note of affection in Dori’s voice. “I’m not angry with him, at least.”

Dwalin hummed. “Sure you can’t assassinate him?” he asked.

“Not worth the risk,” Nori’s voice said. “I’d only get one try at it before my head either came off or I had to escape the mountain, and even if I managed it, there would still be more elves than dwarves and we’d probably all die. Believe me, if Thranduil dead would solve the problem, Fili probably would have done it already.”

“Shouldn’t be talking about it,” Ori mumbled from the bed. “If they hear you…”

“They won’t,” Dori said. “We’re alone now with three walls between us and any guards.”

Dwalin sighed heavily. “If only we could get a message to Dis...”

“How?” Nori asked. “I’ve checked and every entrance and exit in this place is watched…except the backdoor you can’t see, which is useful for getting out, but not very conducive to getting back in. And even if we could get a message to her, I doubt she could rustle up enough of an army to challenge Thranduil.”

“You’d be surprised what Dis can do when her boys are in danger,” Dwalin said. “But you’re right…we don’t have anyone who can get in and out.”

Ori managed to lift his head. “Actually,” he said. “We do. But I doubt he could travel to Erid Luin and back quick enough to be any real help.”

“Who?” Dori asked eagerly.

Ori managed a small smile in spite of the pain. “Let’s just say,” he said. “The burglar lives.”


	6. Chapter 5: What Happened to Bifur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speaking Khuzdul is a punishable offense. Always.

After Ori’s punishment, it took a full day for anything further to happen. For his part, Bofur was relieved. He had suspected from the moment Fili had read off the new laws that someone would be losing a head every day.

It was a mark of how low morale was that there hadn’t been more rebellion, really. Then again, there were always elves around, preventing them from plotting anything. And there was so much work to be done that even after hours, when they all returned to their rooms, that all anyone could do was collapse into bed and sleep until they were woken.

And those who stayed up to whisper among themselves never passed their plots beyond their circles.

Mostly, Bofur was content to keep his head down, do his work, cheer up anyone he could, and most importantly, keep his family alive. And if this meant singing loudly as he worked to cover the whispered Khuzdul falling from Bifur’s lips, well, he usually did that anyway.

But that couldn’t last forever.

It was a particularly hard day of work, moving a large pile of rubble away from the principle mine so they could start on the bracing the next week. Bofur could hardly keep his voice loud enough while doing that much heavy lifting, and he couldn’t pay attention to everything.

There was a crash, then several muffled curses, and then a long sentence in Khuzdul that Bofur had no trouble recognizing.

He was moving before he knew what he was doing, trying to get between the elves and his cousin, but he wasn’t quite fast enough. They had already caught Bifur by the arm and were starting to pull him away.

“WAIT!” Bofur screamed.

“Speaking Khuzdul,” one of the guards said. “You know the law!”

“He can’t speak Westron,” Bofur protested. “The axe prevents him!”

Bifur was babbling now, his eyes wide with fear. The elves gripped his tighter.

“Please,” Bofur said. “You’re scaring him…let me go to him, please!”

“He’ll be taken before the king, like any other,” the guard growled.

“Let me go with him!” Bofur pleaded.

“You’ll get back to work!” the guard snarled, and then they were dragging Bifur away.

“NO!” Bofur ran after them. “PLEASE! HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND, HE CAN’T HELP IT!”

Bifur was struggling, reaching out for his cousin. Bofur caught up and just managed to reach Bifur’s hand. “Please,” he begged. “Let me come with him…he’ll turn violent otherwise.”

The elves glanced at each other, but one finally sighed. “Very well,” he said. “But only to ensure he does not attack.”

Bofur nodded and followed them. They dragged Bifur to the throne room and threw him down before Thranduil. Bofur hurried to his side and helped his cousin to his feet.

“Khuzdul,” one of the guards grunted.

“Your Majesty,” Bofur cut in before the elves could say anything else. “My cousin…Bifur, son of Telur…he cannot speak Westron. The axe prevents him.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and stood, stepping down from the throne. “Really?” he asked softly, his eyes darting to Fili.

“It’s true,” Fili said. “An old wound…he only speaks Khuzdul and…and has other issues as well.”

“Well, then,” Thranduil said. “It seems to me we should remove that problem, lest we be forced to remove his head.” He nodded to a guard, who stepped forward and put his hands on the axe.

“NO!” Bofur and Fili both screamed at once. “You’ll kill him!” Bofur added. “That’s why it’s still there, the healers were afraid to remove it!”

“I believe my healers will be more than capable of handling it,” Thranduil said. “Remove the axe, please.”

Bofur dove between the guard and his cousin. “You’ll have to kill me first,” he growled. Bifur was babbling again, asking what was happening, why were the elves trying to remove his axe?

Two other guards moved over and grabbed Bofur’s arms, pulling him away. “BIFUR!” Bofur screamed, trying to break free and get to him.

Bifur reached for him. “ _Bofur!_ ” he cried. “ _Please, cousin, don’t let them touch me!”_

“DON’T!” Fili scream. “YOU’LL KILL HIM! THRANDUIL, PLEASE!”

Thranduil ignored him. He nodded and the guard got a grip on the axe and pulled.

There was a sickening squelch as the axe was ripped out, followed by a lot of blood. Bofur screamed as Bifur fell to the floor and the elves converged on him.

“Take him to the healers,” Thranduil ordered, and the elves carried Bifur away. Bofur stared after them, his eyes filled with tears. Thranduil turned cold eyes on him. “And you can get back to work.”

*

“Bofur.”

The voice was quiet, but familiar. Bofur’s eyes opened instantly, not that he’d been asleep, too busy worrying over his cousin.

“Bilbo?” he whispered into the dark.

A small hand on his was all the assurance he needed. “Bifur’s alive,” Bilbo whispered. “Alive and doing well…and swearing at the elves in Westron.”

Bofur smiled. “He’s healed, then?”

“Yes,” Bilbo said. “They patched him up well…Thranduil didn’t want to lose a good worker. They’re going to have him back to work in a few days.”

Bofur reached out and embraced the Hobbit. “Thank you,” he hissed. “Tell Bifur…”

“He knows.” Bilbo patted Bofur’s back. “I have to go…need to get food while the kitchens are empty.”

“Bombur left some cakes in the lowest cupboard,” Bofur whispered. “Special for you…doesn’t want you to starve.”

Bilbo laughed. “Thanks.”

And then he was gone.


	7. Chapter 6: What Happened to Gloin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Messages need to be sent to warn the others.

It was remarkable how quickly the news of Bilbo’s survival spread amongst the company, especially without the elves noticing. Oh, they occasionally saw a small shadow flitting about, or heard a whisper of breath where no one stood, but they quickly put this down to tricks of the mountain. Who could understand dwarvish architecture, anyway?

But to the dwarves, the rumor of a little spirit were heartening and welcome. Even those who had come with Dain’s army had heard the story of Bilbo Baggins and the idea that he was still there to give comfort to the dwarves was enough to keep them from outright rebellion for now.

And every dwarf knew that if they needed anything they couldn’t easily get, they merely had to whisper a word to Bombur, who would leave a note in a small, out-of-the-way cupboard in the kitchens, and within a few days, the item would appear underneath the dwarf’s bed, usually stolen from some unsuspecting elf. Since dwarves hadn’t been strictly forbidden from having anything except weapons yet, no one could really object to this.

Nothing was out of bounds for their Hobbit, so when Gloin whispered to Bombur that he needed paper, pen and ink one day, it was only a matter of time before the items appeared for him. Gloin smiled and hoped that Bilbo would find a way to start smuggling things out of the mountain soon.

_My dear Mana and Gimli,_

_I do not know if this letter will reach you, but I must write in the hope that it does. Erebor has fallen to the elves of Mirkwood, and we are enslaved here._

_I dare not attempt to escape and return to you. I do not know what the consequence would be, but I do not imagine it would be pleasant. The elf king has already taken our weapons and our language and our history from us, yes, even our king and princes. Thorin is dead, and Fili and Kili are little more than puppets to Thranduil’s will._

_Conditions are terrible and grow worse by the day. We work long hours to rebuild the kingdom for a king who does not deserve to sit upon its throne. Any who speak Khuzdul are beaten and any who speak out against this tyranny will be put to death._

_It is because of this that I beg you to remain in the Blue Mountains until help can be found or a revolution can be carried out. Pass on my words to Lady Dis, and emphasize that her sons are being harmed. Implore her to find allies to come to us, and if she cannot, prepare yourselves for a siege—I do not believe that the elf king will settle for one dwarf kingdom if he thought he could destroy all._

_Do not come to Erebor, and do not allow others to do so either unless they come for war. I would not see all of my people subjected to what I have been put through!_

_Love,_

*

The letter was left sealed in the cupboard with the food Bombur put out for the Hobbit, and Gloin could only hope that it would find its way across Middle Earth and into the right hands. Mana would have no way to write back once she’d received it, so he could only wait and see if Dis responded with an army.

Meanwhile, he kept his head down and returned to his work, trying not to give any sign that he had done anything so bold.

It wasn’t until a few days later that, to Gloin’s surprise and fear, he was summoned to the throne room. He went slowly, fearful that Thranduil had somehow learned about the warning he had sent to his wife and son and that he would be put to death for it.

Thranduil was waiting, a bored expression on his face and Fili standing by. Gloin made a short bow, not wanting to rile the elf king this quickly. “You sent for me?” he asked, trying to keep the hatred from his voice.

“Yes,” Thranduil said. “Gloin, son of Groin?”

“Yes,” Gloin said. There was no point in hiding.

“I have been told that you have a wife and son in Erid Luin,” Thranduil said conversationally.

How—? Of course. The elf prince had taken the locket in Mirkwood. “I do,” Gloin admitted.

“The reason I ask,” Thranduil said. “Is because I’ve been talking to young Fili here. I was thinking that we should invite your kin to join you here. After all, it must be so difficult to be separated from them for so long.”

“Very difficult,” Gloin said.

“Yet Fili did not think that the idea of bringing your families back to Erebor would be well-received,” Thranduil continued. “So I decided…why not ask one who has family?”

“Fili’s mother is still there,” Gloin said evasively.

“Yes, Lady Dis,” Thranduil said. “We were acquainted before the dragon came. But boys will deny missing their mothers until the end. So I ask you. Would it be amiss to write to Erid Luin and invite the people of Erebor back to the mountain?”

Gloin swallowed heavily. He couldn’t give away what he’d done, but he wouldn’t encourage Thranduil. “I…I would not want them back here until the repairs were finished,” he said carefully. “The mines are still dangerous, and our women and children are more precious to us than gold.”

“But what of the men?” Thranduil asked. “Those who did not come on the quest to reclaim the mountain? Surely more workers wouldn’t be amiss? And the women and children would of course be kept out of the way of the mines until they were fully repaired.”

Gloin glanced at Fili, who didn’t move, only looked at him desperately, and Gloin knew what he had to do. If he’d been willing to face a dragon to give his people a better life, he had to be willing to defy an elf.

He looked Thranduil in the eye. “They will not come,” he said. “I have already written them, to tell them of your tyranny and to warn them away from this place.” He clenched his hands, preparing to be ordered to his death. “And I will not send word for them to come, nor would I allow anyone to bring my wife and son under your rule.”

Thranduil’s face was motionless, but Gloin saw his eyes turn cold. “How could you smuggle a letter out?” he hissed. “Nothing can leave this mountain without my leave.”

Gloin smirked. “You do not understand the secrets of this mountain,” he said.

Thranduil snapped his fingers and guards appeared. “Throw this dwarf in the dungeons,” he said. “Leave him there until he reveals how he got a message out of the mountain.”

Gloin did not resist the guards. He looked back to Fili, who nodded once in approval. And that was all Gloin needed.

*

Late that night, just as the guards were changing shifts, Gloin heard a whisper.

“Your message has been sent,” Bilbo hissed. “Bard is sympathetic to your cause and agreed to ensure that it reached the Blue Mountains.”

“Isn’t Bard on the elf king’s side?” Gloin hissed back.

“He says that the darkness grows,” Bilbo whispered back. “That he can feel it, and it is stronger from the mountain. He will help us.”

“Thank you,” Gloin whispered.


	8. Chapter 7: What Happened to Balin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who should the dwarves really turn their anger on?

While there had been no outright rebellion since Dain’s first futile attempt, Balin knew it was still on the minds of many dwarves, particularly those from the Iron Hills. He knew that Dain’s execution had only incensed them to further violence, though at least they were more subtle about it now.

After all, the elves didn’t know enough about mines to realize that there shouldn’t have been quite so many random rock falls, particularly near the head of any passing guard who wasn’t paying very close attention. None had died so far, but it was really only a matter of time. While Balin didn’t contribute to these efforts, he also made no move to stop them.

He knew that they had to survive, and if the elves knew what they were up to, they wouldn’t.

But they had to live.

He owed Fili that much. It broke his heart to lose Thorin, it destroyed him to watch the boys be so broken. He would not make it harder on them by openly fighting.

As the days went on, though, the mutterings became less and less about the elves and more about Fili. The dwarves of the Iron Hills whispered, saying that they should not have surrendered, that it would have been better to die than to live like this. Balin understood. It was a miserable life, to be enslaved to the elves.

He would have withstood it.

But he would not let Fili be spoken of poorly.

“He was weak,” a dwarf said one night as they sat down to a poor dinner. “A coward, too afraid to die like a true dwarf.”

“Aye,” another said. “He was unworthy to take Thorin’s place. He will never be a true king.”

Balin saw red and his hands shook. Fili, who took the brunt of Thranduil’s wrath more often than they realized, who rebelled in any way he could, who kept their people alive, unworthy to be king?

“You know not of what you speak,” he said. “It is because of Fili that you all may sit here and speak ill of him, and I will not allow you to continue to do so.”

The first dwarf glared at him. “Would that he had been left behind, rather than become our king,” the dwarf spat.

Balin leaped to his feet. “You wouldn’t even answer the call,” he said. “He is more worthy to be king than any of you!”

The other dwarf rose as well, his eating knife in hand. “At least now he’s where he belongs,” the dwarf said. “At least he can be an elf’s whore!”

Upon reflection, starting a fight in the middle of the fairly well-guarded dining hall was probably a bad idea, but Balin didn’t reflect. He was already at the end of his tether, and he would not allow Fili to be abused, even out of the boy’s hearing.

The first hit was good and knocked the offending dwarf to the ground. The dwarf rose a second later and threw the knife. Balin dodged and hit him again.

Within seconds, the entire hall had fallen into a riot, those who spoke ill of Fili against those who remained loyal to him. The first group was larger, but the second seemed much more determined.

An arrow flew over them, followed by several more as the guards descended to break up the fight. The elves called for order, separating the combatants by force if necessary.

The head of the guards stepped in. “Who started it?” he demanded.

There was silence for a moment before the dwarves who spoke ill of Fili pointed to Balin. He didn’t flinch, only met the guard’s eyes defiantly.

The guards grabbed him and hauled him away. Dwalin opened his mouth to protest, but Balin gave him a swift look to silence him. No point in both of them being arrested. The guards pulled Balin out of the hall and to the throne room.

“This one started a riot,” the guard snapped at Thranduil.

Balin reveled in the look of shock on Fili’s face.

*

“You should be grateful,” Bilbo whispered. “Probably should have taken your head off.”

Balin hummed. “I think he was kind of impressed,” he said. “And Fili did point out it was in defense of a king. Loyalty is a value for elves and dwarves.”

“And now you’re in a dungeon,” Bilbo pointed out. “Value or not.”

Balin shrugged. “I’m not dead,” he said. “That’s a start.”

“How long will that stay true?” Bilbo muttered.

Balin didn’t have an answer.


	9. Chapter 8: What Happened to Kili

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is not going to die.

He was not going to die.

That was what Kili had to cling to. No matter what else happened, he was not going to die.

With every hit, he would live. With every word of scorn, he would survive. With every touch devoid of love, he would go on.

Thranduil needed him. He would never say so, but Kili knew. He was the means to control Fili, the means to keep Erebor under the rule of the elves.

He was going to survive.

And as long as he survived, Fili would live. After all, if Kili was gone, there was no use for Fili.

He would survive. He had to survive.

The elves had taken everything. His uncle, his freedom, his voice, his pride, his body. He had been hurt, tortured, used.

They would not take his brother. They would not take his life.

But oh, sometimes he wished they would.

There were two of them today, one before him and one behind. Kili was on his hands and knees, his body bare and exposed. The one before him pulled his hair, taking his mouth, while the one behind bruised his hips, pushing into him. It was common to do this. Kili was there to be used, there to be hurt. Thranduil wanted him to hurt. The more he hurt, the more compliant Fili was.

It had gotten worse as time went on. The blows were harder, the violations deeper. Thranduil had taken to using a knife on him whenever Fili protested whatever the latest edict was, the cuts deep and untreated. The beatings were daily, to ensure a state of constant pain.

But he would not die.

The guard in front finished and Kili choked, spitting on the floor. The guard behind dug his nails into his back, making it worse, so much worse.

And Fili would see it. Maybe he didn’t witness this directly, but he would see the results later. He knew what happened.

He could do nothing to stop it.

Kili didn’t blame him.

They would not die.

At least, not alone.

*

He was grateful for one thing, that he did not have to sleep in the dungeon. Thranduil most often wanted Kili in his bed, to further abuse. But at least once Thranduil finished, Kili could sleep in relative comfort. And since he was in the bed of a king, he was always clean.

And Thranduil was better than the guards. There was almost a tenderness in the elf king’s hands, a mocking love when he kissed Kili. Moments of comfort, to keep him grounded through the torment. In the day, Thranduil could be cruel and painful, knives and fists and choking hands.

But in the night, Thranduil was comforting. He would whisper to Kili, apologizing for the pain, it was only necessary to keep Fili in line. “You understand,” he whispered. “Your brother cannot be touched. He does this to you. This is to punish him, not you. This is his fault.”

And Kili wanted to fight it. He knew Fili didn’t want this to happen to him, that Fili wanted him safe. But he also knew that the pain was worse when Fili disobeyed, when Fili protested Thranduil’s rulings.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Thranduil whispered, late at night as his cold hands pressed to Kili’s fevered skin. “I don’t want you to suffer. Poor little dwarf…I wish you could be happy. But I must be firm with him.”

His hands were quick and skilled, his mouth warm and inviting, his voice low and rich and lovely.

And Kili believed him, in the moments of peace, in the brief seconds when Thranduil would take the pain away. When Thranduil treated his injuries personally and made him whole again to be broken later. Kili believed that Thranduil didn’t want to hurt him.

He almost believed that Thranduil loved him.

He almost believed that Fili did not.

*

“Kili.”

Bilbo’s voice was distant, in the rare moment that Kili was left alone. Kili barely acknowledged it. It was probably a product of his own madness.

He had not spoken in weeks, ever since Thranduil had taken him. He barely thought anymore, only enough to comprehend Thranduil-Fili-pain. He knew he was insane. He knew there was no escape. He was too broken.

“Kili, please.”

He didn’t even look for the voice. It was a wish, that the burglar would save them. But Bilbo was dead, gone. Perhaps it was a ghost. Maybe Thorin would come to him next.

“I’m going to save you.”

The whisper was so quiet Kili barely heard it.

“You’re going to get out.”

He closed his eyes, but he did feel a tiny hand squeeze his.

It was nice to believe he would not die.

 


	10. Chapter 9: What Happened to Nori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a thief in an unstable kingdom is tricky.

Being a thief in an unstable kingdom had both its advantages and its drawbacks.

For Nori, the main advantage was that no one cared if he nicked things from his fellow dwarves. The elves put them all down as being careless and stupid, and nothing was done about the small items Nori secreted away and redistributed.

The main drawback was that everything of value belonged to the elves. And the elves did care when their things went missing.

Nori tread carefully at first, keeping everyone in a state of ignorance and security. After a few days, he grew bored and started stealing small things from the other dwarves, then returning them.

But then Bilbo reappeared with little whispers and a need to get things for the other dwarves. And Nori was only too happy to help.

Bilbo got most of the more difficult things on his own, but occasionally Nori was the one to grab something, slipping it into a pocket for Bilbo to fish out later. It worked fairly well, and more often than not, Bilbo would slip him things in turn. Mostly small gems, a few at a time, in various combinations.

It took a day longer than it should have for Nori to begin to recognize what it was that Bilbo gave him. But as soon as he did, it became much easier to get what was needed.

The other dwarves started getting small gems as well, just a few. Nori wasn’t sure how many of them really understood, but it was worth passing them out as subtly as possible. After all, they may have been denied Khuzdul, but the elves didn’t know everything about dwarves.

And they especially didn’t know gem code.

Nori didn’t care what messages the others sent. He only ensured that they had the materials to do so. Though from what he saw passed around, in brief flashes when the elves were distracted, there was a revolution brewing.

Or there would be, if there had been enough dwarves and a strong leader. As it was, Nori only saw this as another way for his fellows to exterminate themselves. He would not be joining them.

At least, not until they had a more solid plan. And if that solid plan was one that would actually work. And if Ori was well away from danger before they implemented it.

So far, passing messages himself was enough. Taking things from the elves was enough. Ensuring that Ori didn’t get into any more trouble was enough. Nori didn’t care who was in charge, as long as he could keep him and his safe.

They were never safe.

The gem code was never broken, and Nori was fairly sure that the elves didn’t know it was happening. Which was just as well, since dwarves being caught with the treasure would end badly. But oh, he would rather that they had caught him passing messages. At least that would be something worth remembering.

But no. He had to be caught leaving the kitchen late at night, extra food rations stowed in his pockets for Ori.

As far as petty thefts went, this was about as embarrassing as Nori had ever gotten.

“Stealing, eh?” the guard asked, catching Nori’s arm. “You’ll lose your hand for that.”

“Been threatened before,” Nori muttered. Really, he was resigned to it.

The guard pulled out a knife. Nori braced himself. “Aren’t you even going to take me to the king first?” he asked, hoping to play for time.

“Why?” the guard asked. “The king will say the same that I do.”

So much for time. Nori swallowed heavily, knowing that it was all up and he had two choices. Accept his fate, or make this all worth it.

“Fine,” he said. “I’d expect nothing more creative. Stupid pointy-eared bastard.”

*

The execution was ordered for the next morning, when all of Erebor could witness it. Nori didn’t protest. He had always known it would end this way for him. The main difference was that now he could die a martyr instead of a criminal.

He hoped that would be enough for his brothers to forgive him.

He hadn’t been allowed to see them. They probably didn’t even know he was in trouble yet. That was fine. Let them sleep another night, believing him to be safe. Let Ori believe he was invincible for a little longer. Let Dori believe that he was still doing good for one more night.

He was just about to slip into sleep when there was a sudden bang and crash of a cave-in. The guards standing outside his cell jumped as a lot of shouting broke out.

An elf dashed into the hall. “Everyone’s being called,” the elf said. “Major cave-in, several trapped! We need all hands!”

The guards took off. Nori sat up, realizing that good luck was, as usual, on his side.

“Nori!”

There was a chink of keys and the door opened, though he saw no one there.

“It’s time to leave.” Bilbo’s voice was close. “Quickly, before they notice.”

Nori got up instantly. Of course Bilbo would save him. Bilbo always saved them. Nori couldn’t see him, but Bilbo took his hand and led him through the open door and away. Nori didn’t even pause to ask how Bilbo had arranged for a cave-in right when he needed one—it was always better not to question their Hobbit.

He followed the hand leading him out of the dungeon, through the tunnels of the mountain, most of them unexplored and probably unsafe, but also undiscovered by the elves. If anyone tried to follow, they would probably be lost very quickly.

Nori did pause when he realized it was only him that Bilbo was leading out. He moved closer to where he was sure Bilbo was running.

“Why aren’t you breaking the others out?” he whispered.

“They aren’t in immediate danger,” Bilbo hissed back, never breaking his stride. “And I could only barter one horse…to be honest, I didn’t even realize you’d be the one I’d send until tonight.”

“Send where?” Nori was hopelessly lost himself now, but Bilbo never hesitated at any turning.

“Back to the Blue Mountains,” Bilbo said. “To get help. I knew someone was going to have to go about a week ago, but I wasn’t sure who. Don’t worry, the horse will carry two.”

“Two? Are you coming with me?”

“Of course not.” They had started climbing up an incline and were well out of earshot of the kingdom proper. “There’s…someone else who’s going with you. Someone who Dis will listen to. But he shouldn’t go alone and you need to get out. Perfect solution.”

“Who…?”

“You’ll know soon enough.” Nori finally recognized where they were. The back door of Erebor, where they had come in to fight the dragon. The door was slightly ajar, just enough for Bilbo and Nori to squeeze out.

There was indeed a horse waiting there, several packs on its back and another dwarf standing beside it. The dwarf wore a thick cloak with the hood over his face. Nori couldn’t see past it, but he was quick to note that the dwarf was rather taller and a bit thinner than usual. Nori raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

“Ride fast,” Bilbo whispered. “I’ll give word of your escape to the others once you’ve gotten a good head start. No point giving them false hope until I’m sure you’ve gotten out.”

The hooded dwarf nodded and climbed up on a rock to get on the horse. Nori followed, swinging up behind his silent companion. The dwarf took the reins and turned the horse before kicking it into as quick a run as would be safe on the mountain.

Nori clutched at his companion’s waist as they rode down the Lonely Mountain. He did not look back as they galloped past Dale toward the forest.


	11. Chapter 10: What Happened to Bilbo, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stayed under Thranduil's radar in Mirkwood. He can do it again in Erebor.

The very first thing Bilbo did upon being ordered to remain out of sight was to set up a small camp down in the tombs. It wasn’t a comfortable place, but the elves didn’t go there.

And really, once he’d staked out a small corner of the place, not too close to any of the bodies of ancient and not-so-ancient kings, he found that it wasn’t too bad. Homey, in its way, with space for anything he would need. He gathered some blankets and built himself a sort of nest, perfect for the little sleep he would get.

The next thing he did was start setting up traps, getting rocks piled and balanced as well as he could, ready to come down and block off the tomb entirely if the elves got too close. Or even if he just needed to distract them for a bit. He had to employ all the engineering knowledge the dwarves had given him over their journey, and it took quite a lot of work since he was doing it alone, but he soon managed it.

And finally, he took to exploring the catacombs, using a map he had pilfered from Erebor’s library, making sure he knew every path in and out of the mountain. There were secret passages and small tunnels and all sorts of paths, and he was soon certain that if need be, he could escape from anywhere in Erebor without being followed.

Of course, thanks to Thranduil’s edicts, his little corner soon filled with the books he managed to save, the items he pilfered from the treasury, the scraps and messages he received in turn. His nest was a bit crowded, but he wasn’t there too often, and it was better to be surrounded by books and maps and messages than by the misery of the kingdom above. Even the feeling of death and dread in the tombs was better than that.

Once he was absolutely certain that he was safe and able to leave when he wished, Bilbo set about helping the dwarves. It took a little while to get the gem code going, since he had to consult quite a few books, most of which were in Khuzdul and therefore useless to him, but once he had started it, it seemed to go well. At any rate, the dwarves seemed to be organizing a little better.

Getting messages out of Erebor was quickly feasible, as soon as Bilbo slipped into Dale and told Bard what was happening. The King of Dale was sympathetic and agreed to help as best as he could, but he couldn’t lead a fight against Thranduil—his people were already starving and they needed to keep up the appearance of an alliance. And once Bard had agreed to send messages, Bilbo was quickly able to start going into Dale’s budding market without anyone commenting, picking up the things the dwarves needed that he couldn’t steal from the elves.

It was hard work, but within two weeks, Bilbo had gotten a system going. He was certain that his dwarves wouldn’t do too badly, and that had to be enough. Running errands and messages for them, comforting the ones he could…it was good work for him.

But it couldn’t last forever. Bilbo knew that they wouldn’t stand Thranduil’s rule for long and that soon they would either all be killed or broken. He knew that they needed help beyond what he could give.

The problem was that, while he could send messages to Erid Luin, it would take months if not years to receive a reply and Bilbo could not be certain that aid would come from there. From what he understood, Lady Dis would respond as quickly as she could once she knew her sons were in danger, but whether she would send word or just show up with an army was unknown. And even if she wanted to come with an army, Bilbo could not be certain how many would follow her.

He needed someone to go to Erid Luin personally, someone to rally the army and ensure they would have victory. But without a King, without someone who could command an entire race…

Well. That was a bit hopeless.

*

“We cannot wait any longer.”

Bilbo nodded. He knew that, really, after a month of Thranduil’s rule.

“Someone must go to Erid Luin. We have to appeal to Dis…make her come.”

“She will come. She just needs time…time and leadership.”

A hand gripped Bilbo’s. “Then you know what we need to do.”

Bilbo nodded. “I’ll make arrangements immediately. And find someone to go with you.”

“You will not?”

“I’m needed here. Having an invisible spy in the dark is invaluable to them.”

“A horse, then, and provisions, as quickly as you can arrange them.”

“Are you sure you’re well enough to go?”

“I have to be.”

“Tomorrow night, then. I’ll find a companion for you…no one should ride alone, but we cannot send more than two.” Bilbo hesitated. “Are you sure you do not wish to speak to Fili?”

“Quite. He must not hope…if I fail…it would be better for him to keep being Thranduil’s pet. It at least keeps him alive.” Bilbo's hand was squeezed hard. "He is not going to die."

*

A horse and provisions were easy enough to arrange. Bilbo simply went to Bard at first light and purchased everything, paid for out of Erebor’s treasury. It was a small enough sum that Thranduil would hardly notice. He got the horse up the mountain by a different path than the company had taken, but managed to get it to the door, where it could wait for a day.

Finding a second dwarf was a bit trickier, but was quickly expedited when Bilbo witnessed Nori’s arrest and subsequent sentence. After that, it was easy to lure a few guards near enough to one of his traps to set it off, effectively cutting off the main path to the tombs and trapping them under enough rubble to cause the rest of the elves to be called.

A quick run through the tunnels and he was in the dungeon, keys in hand to let Nori out. The guards were still distracted, which gave Bilbo enough time to send the dwarves on their way and get back to the dungeon in time to relock the cell before the guards returned.

He barely glanced at the remaining prisoners before taking off down another small tunnel and finding his way back to the tombs, now completely out of reach of any elves.

It would have to be enough. Bilbo curled in his nest, confident that help would come now. It had to come. Dis would not be able to refuse a request in person, and the remaining dwarves of Erid Luin would not dare to disobey.


	12. Chapter 11: What Happened to Dori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thief has escaped. Again.

 

Thranduil was in a bad mood. Fili could tell that right away, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. He had received a message in gem code that morning from Bilbo, informing him of the cave-in and Nori’s miraculous escape, and there was no doubt that both of those occurrences were highly annoying to Thranduil.

“A thief escaped last night,” Thranduil began when Fili arrived in the throne room that morning.

“Fascinating,” Fili muttered.

“I believe his name is Nori.”

“Most likely,” Fili agreed.

“He escaped during a cave-in that nearly killed three of my guards.”

“They seemed fine when I saw them,” Fili snarked.

Thranduil glared at him. “Watch your cheek, Your Majesty,” he said softly. “I would hate for something to happen to Kili.”

Fili’s jaw tightened but he didn’t answer.

“Does this thief have any family?” Thranduil asked.

Fili hesitated, but then answered. “Brothers, here in the mountain. Dori and Ori…you’ve met them.”

“Bring the elder to me,” Thranduil commanded.

*

Dori had no idea what was going on, but he wasn’t going to ask questions when it was him being hauled before the king instead of Ori.

“You wished to see me?” Dori asked as soon as he was before the throne.

Thranduil glared down at him. “Last night, one of my guards apprehended a thief,” he began. “The thief insulted him and was to be executed this morning. And yet after last night’s cave-in, he was gone. Vanished, cell locked and keys in place. I am told that you are his brother.”

Dori sighed. “Again?” he muttered.

Thranduil looked a bit confused while Fili smirked. “You mean this has happened before?” the elf king asked.

“Ask any of the guards from Erid Luin,” Dori said. “Nori’s broken out of every cell in those mountains and been sentenced to death at least three times at the last count. He came on this venture to get out of the last one.”

“But how did he arrange a cave-in to trap three guards?” Thranduil demanded.

“Couldn’t tell you,” Dori said with a shrug. “I’ve done my best to stay out of his schemes. Perhaps he was simply lucky.”

Thranduil glared. “He could not have gotten out without help,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet now.

“I was in bed all night,” Dori said. “As was Ori. You can ask anyone, including your guards. I did not even know Nori was in trouble until this very moment.”

Thranduil continued to glare. “Very well,” he said. “If you say so...Fili, give the orders to the guards. This dwarf and his brother do not eat until they have told me how the thief escaped, and every prisoner in the dungeons is to be interrogated in whatever way is necessary until they give the same information.”

Dori’s eyes widened. “Please,” he said. “We don’t know what happened…you can’t punish Ori, he’s not strong as it is, please don’t starve him…you can do what you will to me, but don’t hurt him…”

“Those are my orders,” Thranduil said. “And know that your fellows in the dungeons will suffer until the thief is found and his method for escape discovered.”

Fili was pleading as well. “You can’t!” he cried. “If they knew how Nori escaped, would they not have gone with him? You can’t hurt them all for this!”

“Those are my orders,” Thranduil repeated. “You will give them now, or it will be worse for all of them.”

*

“At least Nori’s safe,” Ori said that night. It was dark, and they were hungry, though Ori less so since Dwalin had slipped him a few rations.

Dori hummed in agreement. “Probably out of the mountain and well on his way back home by now,” he said. “Don’t know what he’s going to do when he gets there, but at least he’s out of immediate danger.”

“But what will we do?” Ori asked. “We can’t ask…there’s enough danger without burdening him further.”

“He won’t let us die,” Dori said, more confidently than he felt. “We will get through this, sweet. But remember…no matter what happens, we cannot betray him.”

“I know,” Ori said. “I won’t.”


	13. Chapter 12: What Happened to Bombur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't steal food forever without getting caught.

Bombur knew he should be grateful. He had been put to work in Erebor’s kitchens, doing what he did best, which was feeding the other dwarves. He wasn’t allowed to touch the food for the elves, though whether that was because they were afraid he’d steal it or poison it, Bombur never got a clear answer.

Or maybe delicate elvish digestions simply couldn’t handle good dwarvish cooking, if what Bombur was doing could be called good cooking. The rationing was fairly strict since it was all imported, and what Bombur was given to work with was not nearly good enough.

Still, he did his best, and however badly the other dwarves were treated, at least they didn’t complain about their food. Whatever else happened, unless Thranduil ordered it, the dwarves would not starve.

And even if Thranduil ordered it, Bombur wouldn’t allow it to happen.

After all, the rationing wasn’t so strict that he couldn’t remove a few things here and there. Mostly food for Bilbo, left in the most hidden cupboard of the vast kitchen of Erebor, but also small things that he would slip to Dori and Ori, or send down to the dungeons with Bilbo. Bombur doubted anyone would suspect him of stealing food—he was quiet, he did his work, and while the elves were being driven mad trying to figure out how the dwarves were passing messages and getting redistributed items, Bombur felt sure that they wouldn’t see him as the central trader.

Bofur and Bifur worried, of course. “You should be careful, Bom,” Bofur whispered. “They won’t hesitate to hurt you, no matter how innocent you look.”

“You don’t have to pass every message,” Bifur told him. “We’re capable of communicating with him when we need to. He has a knack for showing up right when he’s needed.”

But Bombur only shook his head at their warnings. “I will not let him down,” he said. “I will not let our people fail.”

More than not seeming to notice his involvement with the black market, the elves didn’t seem to care what Bombur did. After all, he didn’t openly cause trouble, didn’t disobey direct orders, just did his work and stayed out of their way. As far as he was concerned, he could go on like this as long as he needed, so long as Bilbo remained unseen.

*

It turned out that he was wrong.

Oh, Bilbo wasn’t caught. Even without his ring, the Hobbit was too good as sneaking about without anyone realizing. But Bombur should have realized that the cupboards would not go unsearched forever.

He was a bit surprised when one morning, two months after Thranduil’s rein had begun, the guards suddenly came into the kitchen early in the afternoon. They didn’t say a word as they grabbed Bombur by the arms and pulled him into the throne room, leaving the others in the kitchen to stare after them in confusion.

Bombur didn’t fight the guards as they dragged him through the halls of Erebor, merely ran through the advice he had been given in case he was taken before the throne. Keep his eyes on Fili, answer questions honestly without giving anything away, and if the whip came out, stand and take it like a man as long as he could.

He wasn’t afraid of pain. He wasn’t afraid of Thranduil’s anger. But oh, how was Bilbo going to be fed now? How would the dwarves get their messages passed along? Bilbo was an amazing creature, but even he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

The elf king’s face was impassive when Bombur was brought before the throne. Fili looked exhausted, and afraid, but Bombur knew that keeping his eyes on his true king was the best way to keep Thranduil in a very bad mood.

“I have been told,” Thranduil began. “That there is a cupboard where you leave food.”

It was only then that Bombur’s mind caught up with the situation. If they realized that he was leaving food and messages, they must know that it was for someone, and if they knew that…

“I am also told that you leave notes. Lists of things, things that will disappear and then turn up in the pockets of some dwarf later.”

Bombur kept his eyes on Fili, his breath speeding up. Fili’s fists were clenching, but neither spoke.

“Are you aware that we are under rationing for the winter?” Thranduil asked.

Bombur nodded mutely. Best not to speak. If he tried, the whole thing might come out.

“And you know that dwarves are not allowed most objects.”

Bombur nodded again. _Don’t betray Bilbo. Don’t say anything…_

“The distribution process is unknown to me,” Thranduil said. “Would you care to enlighten us?”

Bombur shook his head. Let them hit him, let them imprison him, he wouldn’t say…

Thranduil stood up, glaring. “I’m not going to avoid this any longer,” he said. “A thief escaped from the dungeons and has not been found. He could not leave the mountain undetected, so I will give you one chance to answer: where is the thief?”

Bombur blinked. Escaped from the dungeon? But Bilbo hadn’t been caught…

“He means Nori,” Fili added. “His Majesty can’t be bothered to remember our names.”

Bombur let out a breath. “I don’t know,” he said, relieved that he could tell the truth.

Thranduil shot a glare at Fili, but Bombur didn’t move. They still didn’t know about Bilbo. The dwarves would survive.

“You’ve been passing food to someone,” Thranduil said. “Food and messages. The thief has been missing for a month, and I will have him found. So I ask again: where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Bombur repeated. He suddenly smirked. “If I did, why would I not take him his food and messages directly instead of leaving them where they could be found?”

Thranduil nodded to a guard, who struck Bombur hard across the face. Bombur didn’t even flinch. Perhaps some dwarves would fall under that blow, but he prided himself on his strength and weight. He kept his eyes on Fili, deferring to the will of his king. Fili nodded slightly.

“Is that the best you can do?” Bombur asked.

The first blow to his stomach barely registered, though the ones that rapidly followed started to take their toll. Bombur stood and took it, almost laughing at the idea of these flimsy creatures hoping to harm him with their bare hands.

They stopped after a few minutes. Thranduil glared at him. “Would you like to rethink your answer?” he asked.

“No,” Bombur said.

That was when the knife appeared.

*

“Mahal’s gems, what did he do to you?” Bofur’s hands were shaking hard as he cleaned the wounds on his brother’s back.

Bombur whimpered and didn’t answer. He supposed he ought to consider himself lucky that he had been returned to his family instead of thrown in the dungeons, but it was hard to feel lucky when he was still hurting.

Bifur’s hands were clenching and unclenching, his teeth gritted as he watched Bofur clean the blood off. “If I could get a weapon…”

“Don’t,” Bombur gasped out. “I don’t…they almost killed you once…” He whimpered as Bofur put something stinging on one of the deeper cuts.

“Let them kill me again,” Bifur muttered. “As long as I can take a few of them with me.”

“Don’t let them hear you, Bif,” Bofur said patiently. To Bombur, he said, “You should probably ask Oin about the burns…I’d hate for them to scar.”

“He’s got enough to do,” Bombur muttered. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself. “They said…I’m going to work on the restoration. Elves will do all the cooking.”

The three were quiet for a moment. “You’re strong,” Bofur said. “You’ll be good at restoration.”

“Yes, but…what about the burglar?”

“He’ll manage,” Bifur assured him. “If he could survive Mirkwood without our help, he can survive here. And he’ll find a way to keep passing messages.” Bombur nodded, though he wasn’t sure if he believed it.

Bofur finished cleaning his wounds and reached for a roll of bandages. “Brace yourself, lad,” Bofur said. “This will hurt.” Bombur gripped Bifur’s hand and breathed deeply.


	14. Chapter 13: What Happened to Legolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori and his companion reach Mirkwood.

Nori and his silent companion rode as fast as they could, passing through Dale in a blur and galloping along the river. The stopped but once, to rest the horse for a moment before they were off again.

As they rode, Nori took stock of his situation. He was alive, and had escaped execution again, but he was far from out of danger. He was alone, on a horse that would not carry them all the way across Middle Earth without collapsing, especially at the speed they needed to go, with a companion who neither spoke nor lowered his hood. The only communication Nori got from him were changes in his grip on the horse, or around Nori’s waist when they traded places.

And even when they got to the Blue Mountains, who was to say they would find aid there? What was to force Dis to leave the safety of Erid Luin to take on an army that had already destroyed Dain’s forces? Sure, her sons were in trouble, but the woes of one mother would not be enough to mobilize everyone else.

When Nori expressed these thoughts aloud, though, the only response he got was a slight tightening of arms around his waist, which he had to assume was meant to be reassuring.

They rode until they reached Mirkwood. Only then did the other dwarf seem to hesitate, reigning the horse in and staring at the trees.

“We have to go through it,” Nori said. “It’s the quickest way out of here and if we’re quick, they might not notice us.”

The other dwarf shifted and Nori sighed. “All right, they caught us before,” he admitted. “And if they catch us this time, this is where it ends. But the worst that happens is they kill us and we fail. We at least have to try. And stick to the path. Thorin tried leading us off and that’s when we got into trouble.”

There was an audible sigh from the other dwarf, but he nevertheless spurred the horse back into action. They rode forward, heading into the forest. Nori was pleased to note that whoever this dwarf was, he was sensible enough to listen to his advice.

They got further into the forest than Nori expected, but really, it was only a matter of time before he started to catch glimpses of elves flitting through the trees. He was a bit surprised—he thought that elves tried to stay out of sight. The other dwarf spurred the horse to go faster, and Nori expected arrows to start raining down on them at any moment. He ducked his head and gripped his companion’s waist tighter, but the destruction never came. They rode to the next clearing.

And that was where they were stopped, elves leaping down out of the trees, surrounding them, but none of them had weapons drawn. The dwarf pulled the horse up sharply, keeping his head down, his breathing shallow from fear. Nori touched his hand reassuringly.

One of the elves stepped forward. Nori recognized him as the elven prince who had taken Thorin’s sword. Nori growled low in his throat, but Bilbo had not gotten a weapon for him, so all he could do was look threatening.

“Have you come from Erebor?” the elf prince asked.

Neither dwarf spoke. The prince raised his eyebrows. “Have you come from Erebor?” he repeated.

Nori glared. “What’s it to you, tree-shagger?” he spat.

The prince did not look insulted. “I only ask because I wanted to inquire after the state of affairs there,” he said. “We have received no word since the battle.”

Nori paused. Surely Thranduil would want to tell his son in the forest what he was doing so that any dwarves attempting to leave could be stopped.

“The state of affairs for your people is favorable,” Nori said. “The state of affairs for mine is deplorable. Hence the reason we’re leaving.”

The prince studied him for a long moment. “Tauriel,” he called to one of the others. “Take these two to the palace. Find them comfortable rooms and food, and anything else they need.”

Nori stared, uncomprehending, as a young elf woman stepped up and took the horse’s reigns. Nori’s companion let her lead them off, his hand clenched hard around his hood, making it impossible for anyone to see past it.

*

“Forgive me for not introducing myself,” the prince said later. “My name is Legolas Thranduilion.” He bowed politely.

“Nori, at your service,” Nori said dumbly. His companion made no sound.

Legolas glanced at the hooded dwarf for a moment before he continued. “Please, tell me what has happened in the mountain,” he said to Nori. “And what brings you and…your friend here.”

Nori took a breath. He was leery of this elf, but so far they hadn’t been thrown in a dungeon and tortured. Then again, that only made Nori even more suspicious. “Why should we trust you?” he asked.

Legolas’s expression didn’t change. “Is there any reason you should not?” he asked.

Nori glared. “You locked me in a dungeon last time I was here,” he pointed out.

Legolas blinked. “That would make a difference,” he admitted. “But it was on the orders of my King, who is not here now. And given your words, and the fact that you were riding so fast from the mountain, I assume that misfortune has befallen you.”

Nori glared for another moment. “It has,” he said.

“Then tell me,” Legolas commanded. “And perhaps I can help you.”

“Or your father,” Nori pointed out. “I’m sure you’ve guessed that we’re already running from him.”

“I had,” Legolas agreed. “And I want to know why before I send you back.”

Nori glanced at his companion, who nodded slightly. Nori didn’t know why, but that was enough for him to turn back to Legolas and begin his story.

When he was finished, the prince sat still for a moment. Finally, he spoke. “The forest grows dark,” Legolas said softly. “A shadow has long settled over us, growing in its reach and its darkness every day. We have not been able to drive it away. It poisons our trees and our creatures…I have long feared that it poisons the mind of the King as well.”

Nori stared at him, uncomprehending. Legolas didn’t seem to notice. “This further confirms my fears,” Legolas continued. “I do not know what has driven my father to this madness, but it cannot go on. I may have no love for dwarves, but no one should live under such conditions.” He looked to Nori and the other dwarf. “I do not wish to defy my king,” he said. “Nor do I wish to fight against my father. But if he is as cruel as you say, I must stop him. We are creatures of light, and we are not meant for this level of tyranny.” He stood up suddenly. “You may rest here as long as you need, and we will provide whatever supplies you require to cross the mountains. For now, please excuse me. I have to speak to my people.” He turned and left the room, leaving Nori feeling very wrong-footed indeed.

*

They stayed in Mirkwood for three nights. Nori knew they needed longer, but they couldn’t afford it.

On the third morning, Legolas presented them with a fresh horse, stronger and better-able to carry them over the mountains. He also replenished their food supplies and gave them stronger clothes.

But the greatest surprise came when he removed the sword from his belt and held it out. “I took it from Thorin Oakenshield when he passed through here,” Legolas explained. “Please accept it as proof of my allegiance.”

Nori stared, shocked, but his companion took the sword easily. He nodded wordlessly and they mounted the horse.

“Thank you,” Nori said. They weren’t words he spoke often, but this occasion called for them.

“Ride swiftly,” Legolas said. “And when you return, we will join your fight.”

“Do not jeopardize your people for us,” Nori said. “I would not start a civil war in Mirkwood.”

Legolas shook his head. “Those who were affected by the darkness went to Erebor,” he said. “My father thought it more important to have soldiers there. Those that remain here will follow me, and they will help you.”

Nori nodded. “We are grateful,” he said.

“I know,” Legolas said. “Now go, and do not stop until you must.”

Nori nodded and they rode away.

Legolas watched them go before he turned back to his lieutenant. “Tauriel,” he said. “Prepare the troops for war. You have six months.”


	15. Chapter 14: What Happened to Oin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has to say something.

“See to the prisoners,” Thranduil commanded.

Oin was all too happy to obey. He had mostly been dealing with mining injuries since the takeover of Erebor and had been beginning to worry about those kept in the dungeons below.

Or he was happy, until he actually got down there.

The darkness wasn’t a problem. He was a dwarf, and dwarves never feared the dark.

Nor was the closeness of the stone, though Oin could easily imagine how it would get claustrophobic after a while. But the echoing of his footsteps as the elvish guard led him down didn’t even register past his deafness.

He could hear the screams of the prisoners as the guards tried to torture information about Nori out of them.

He could smell the blood from their injuries.

The first door was opened and Oin was shoved in, his medical bag in hand. He glanced down and his breath hitched when he realized that this was his brother’s cell.

But he couldn’t give away that emotion as he moved to Gloin’s side to start treating the injuries the elves had left.

“Any news?” Gloin whispered as Oin worked, close enough for once to hear without help.

“Not lately,” Oin muttered. The two months Gloin had spent in this place had taken their toll on his body, but clearly not his mind. “You’re probably getting more news than I am, to be honest.”

“Not much,” Gloin muttered. “No one can answer their questions…we didn’t see who helped Nori escape and we don’t know where he went.”

Oin hummed, not trusting himself to speak quietly enough for the elves not to hear. “Are they hurting you badly?” he asked instead.

“Think they actually managed to break an arm the other day,” Gloin said. He sounded unnaturally calm. “Hard to say, really.”

Oin shook his head. His brother was always too stubborn to let anyone break him. “Let’s see.” He examined the arm, nodded as Gloin finally gasped. “Yeah, that’s a break.” He went about setting it before getting up. “I’ll let you know if the missis responds.”

Gloin nodded and his eyes closed. Oin moved on to the next prisoner.

None of the others spoke to him. Oin couldn’t tell if it was out of fear that the elves would hear them or if they had all lost their minds to what was happening to them. He didn’t ask, just did his job and moved on.

He had been into every cell but one when the guard stopped him. “Your work is finished,” the guard said. “I will escort you back upstairs.”

Oin frowned. “But I haven’t seen Kili,” he said. “And I know that he needs attention.”

“Kili is being seen to by elven healers,” the guard said. “Come.” He pushed Oin around and marched him back upstairs.

*

“I won’t tolerate it,” Oin said. He was standing in the throne room, his eyes on Thranduil. The others said that it was easier to watch Fili, but Oin was far too old and tough for that. If he was going to speak to someone, he would speak to them. “The conditions down there are too much! They will all die!”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows. “Are you objecting to how I rule my kingdom, Master Dwarf?”

“You bloody well bet I am,” Oin snapped. “You can’t treat people like that! Half of them have gone mad and the other half aren’t far behind! And your guard wouldn’t even let me see the prince!”

Fili’s head jerked a little, but Oin ignored him. “I have seen several kings in my day,” he continued. “And not one of them would have allowed such practices to go on!”

Thranduil waited patiently for Oin to finish his rant. Once he had, the elf king nodded. “Your objections have been heard,” he said. “Dismissed.”

Oin stared at him in rage. “Dismissed?” he spat back. “I will not be dismissed until you do something about it!”

“Oin…” Fili began.

Thranduil’s expression did not change. “I will treat my prisoners as I so please,” he said. “If one of them will merely tell me how the thief escaped, I will ease up on all of them. One of them must have noticed.”

“You’ve broken them already,” Oin said. “They cannot stand, they cannot speak, some can barely move, and you’re no closer to finding out than you were before. Keep sending me down there, the story will stay the same!”

“If you so desire,” Thranduil said. “You can stay down there.” He snapped his fingers and the guards dragged Oin away.


	16. Chapter 15: What Happened to Dwalin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things that even the strongest dwarves can't tolerate.

The winter passed, and as time went on, things did get easier. Oh, Thranduil ruled as ruthlessly as ever, but soon the restoration of Erebor overtook Thranuil’s desire to do harm to the dwarves, and indeed, most of the dwarves were too tired to keep being defiant. After all, they were doing what they did best, and there was a sort of pride in their work.

Six months after Thranduil had taken over, the restorations were declared finished enough for mining operations to start. That evening, there was celebration throughout the kingdom, and the elves didn’t even have the heart to break it up.

The mood in Erebor was good enough that Dwalin felt it was time that he could make a move. He approached Fili a few days later.

“Your Majesty,” Dwalin said, unwilling even now to acknowledge Thranduil as king. “I would request your permission to marry.”

Fili smiled for the first time in months. “Finally,” he muttered. “You and Ori have been courting for how many months now?”

“Enough to be proper,” Dwalin said. “His brother has given consent, and…and it seems safe enough now. I hope that our union might give him a better life.”

“You know you don’t need my blessing,” Fili said. “It was given the moment you gave your first gift.” He swallowed heavily. “But…but I fear that you will have to ask permission from the elf king. Unless you wished to elope, but even that might be a bit too much trouble.”

*

Dwalin was not afraid of the elf king, though he did have his apprehensions. If he was denied Ori, if he was separated from his One love…well, that would be too much to bear.

Still, Dwalin was not a dwarf to run from adversity, so he went to the throne room one day when operations were slow and Thranduil was rumored to be in a fairly good mood. Dwalin squared his shoulders, glad that Fili was there, and bowed quickly before the king.

Thranduil raised his eyebrows. “I understand you have a petition for me?” he asked, and thank Mahal he didn’t sound angry yet.

“I do.” Dwalin glanced at Fili, who smiled tightly. “I seek permission to marry.”

“And who would you marry?” Thranduil asked. He sounded…casual. Normal, like this was any other petition a king would hear.

“Ori, son of Korin…I think you know him.” Dwalin kept his voice steady, though his mind was racing. “We have courted in the proper way of our people, and I would make our bond permanent.”

Thranduil nodded. “I understand,” he said, and Dwalin was definitely feeling very wrong-footed now. “I see no reason you should not marry,” Thranduil continued, and Dwalin was very, very concerned now. “But on one condition.”

Dwalin sucked in a breath. “Yes?” he asked, more afraid than ever.

“I will demand the right of the first night. And he will comply.”

*

“Ori!”

Ori jerked awake, glancing around to see a large figure beside him. “Dwalin?” he hissed.

“Get up,” Dwalin said. “We’re leaving, consequences be damned. I’ll not stay here any longer, and I won’t leave you behind.”

Ori obeyed, getting out of bed and dressing quickly, glancing around to make sure none of the others in the common hall had woken. “Why are we leaving now?” he asked.

“I asked the king permission for our marriage,” Dwalin whispered. “He demanded the right of the first night from you…I can’t put you through that. I won’t let him have you.”

Ori finished dressing quickly and snatched his travelling bag from beneath the bed. It was always packed, always prepared for his escape. “Where will we go?” he asked.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Far away from here, that’s for certain.” Dwalin took his hand so they wouldn’t be separated in the dark. “We’ll get a pony from Dale…go to the Iron Hills, perhaps, or back to Erid Luin. Anywhere we can be safe…where we can be together.”

Ori glanced at his sleeping brother. “Dori…”

“Dori is strong,” Dwalin said. “I’ve already asked the burglar to give him a message from us. Now come on. We don’t have much time.”

Ori nodded and allowed Dwalin to lead him from the room, through the halls, skirting out of sight to avoid the guards. Ori didn’t know where they were going, but Dwalin never hesitated at any turning. Of course he didn’t—he had lived in this mountain throughout his youth and knew it well.

Then Ori remembered Nori’s words from months before.

_Useful for getting out, but not very conducive to getting back in._

He trusted Dwalin to find the way out. He knew they would not come back…

“HALT!”

Or maybe they wouldn’t escape at all.

*

Dwalin paced in the small space incessantly. It wasn’t a prison cell—rather, the guards had dragged him down to the mines and placed him in a small room with a thick door. Dwalin knew what it was—it was where the most dangerous prisoners of Erebor had been kept before, and he knew there was no escape.

For the first hour, he did try, throwing himself at the door, but he was quickly exhausted, so he paced. What happened to Ori? They had been pulled in different directions and Dwalin couldn’t be sure what had happened. All he knew was the expression of absolute terror on Ori’s face as he cried out, as they struggled against the guards to try and reach each other. But there were too many, and the elves had weapons, and they had soon been separated.

Hours later, the door opened and Thranduil himself stepped inside. He did not look angry, only bored.

“You did not truly think you could escape, did you?” he asked.

Dwalin glared at him and said nothing.

“It was a futile attempt…and a stupid one, not that I’d expect better from a dwarf.”

Dwalin growled. “What have you done with Ori?”

“He is dead.”

Dwalin froze, his eyes widening.

“This was his second offense, and far more serious than the first. He was brought before my throne and executed.” Thranduil’s expression did not change. “It is a pity, that he should die for your decisions. But it cannot be helped.” He turned back to the door. “So you think about that for a while.”

The door closed and locked. Dwalin screamed out in grief and fury, punching at the door, but it did not open again.


	17. Chapter 16: What Happened to Bilbo, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting is hard. Guilt is harder.

If Bilbo thought Erebor was bad before he sent for help, it was nothing compared to how it was when he had to wait.

It was all he could do. Oh, he still helped the dwarves as best as he could, but he could do little more than what he had done for the last eight months. There would still be at least four more months to wait, assuming that the dwarves he had sent had not been caught and that Dis was already preparing an army when they arrived.

But worse than the waiting was the guilt, the knowledge that those in the cells were still being tortured mercilessly for his actions.

Bilbo did not spend as much time as he should have in the dungeons, unable to stand the sounds of screams and the smell of blood. But he would creep down in the night, tend to those he could, comfort those who could still listen, slip food to them, even though it was much harder to secure since Bombur had been removed from the kitchen. Still, Bilbo had the market of Dale and access to the kitchen very late at night, so they did not starve.

There were some rooms he couldn’t access. He could not go down to the deepest cells, where the most “dangerous” prisoners were kept, though he could hear them. He could hear the cries of grief and the pounding at the walls, made worse by the fact that he could offer no comfort to them. He heard Ori’s screams after that foolish escape attempt, and he heard Dwalin’s roar of absolute misery when Thranduil went down to him, sounds that haunted Bilbo to the very core.

And then there was the silent cell at the very end of the dungeon, the one that Bilbo did not dare approach. He did try to get below, and knew by heart which prisoner what in which cell, but that one he would not go to. He couldn’t stand the silence, or the number of guards standing over it.

If the dwarves did not depend on him to pass messages and items, Bilbo would have simply retreated to his nest in the tombs until the army arrived (if it ever would). But since he couldn’t be certain of when that would be, he kept doing his duty.

*

“I have a question.”

The whisper was desperate and Bilbo squeezed Fili’s hand. “Yes?”

“Have you seen Kili lately?”

“No. His cell is too closely guarded.” Bilbo paused. “Why do you ask?”

“I have not seen him, either,” Fili said. “Thranduil does not bring him out to show me what’s happening…he only threatens it.” There was a note of skepticism and just a bit of hope in Fili’s voice. “Have you heard him, at least?”

“He lost the ability to speak months ago,” Bilbo said. “They broke him so quickly…I doubt he could scream if he wanted to.”

Fili could not see him, but Bilbo knew that he was trying to scrutinize him. Fortunately, Fili wasn’t even looking in the right direction, even if he could spot Bilbo when invisible. “It’s almost as if he’s not even there,” Fili said shrewdly.

Bilbo sighed. “Indeed,” he said. “It seems that way. But I would not cross Thranduil.” He squeezed Fili’s hand again. “I know help will come…your mother will help us.”

“I know,” Fili said. “Thank you…for everything.”

Bilbo slipped away then, Fili’s gratitude enough to sustain him.

 


	18. Chapter 17: What Happened to Gandalf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori reaches Rivendell and yells at a wizard.

The Misty Mountains were cold, as per usual, but thankfully they were a little more boring this time. Nori was grateful that they didn’t have to fight goblins or stone giants or orcs or whatever this time around.

Of course, the lack of anything chasing them gave him a chance to wonder about his companion. Throughout the entire journey, the other dwarf never once lowered his hood to let Nori see his face, nor did he speak. On the rare occasion they stopped to rest or bathe, he would go away from Nori, out of the light of the fire where he could not be seen. Nori wondered at this secrecy, but he did not ask questions or attempt to intrude.

He did have his suspicions, though. He knew most of the dwarves in Erebor, and he could guess a few things about this one. His build ruled out many of those Nori knew; though they had all lost some weight, most had not gained height.

His clothes were ill-fitting and ragged, and Nori had a feeling that Bilbo had retrieved them from Dale or patched them together from stolen bits from the other dwarves. He had no armor or weapons, besides the sword Legolas had given him, and he never had occasion to use it, so Nori could not judge his skill. His beard seemed to be fairly short, though that did not indicate much, since Nori couldn’t even spot the color.

But Bilbo had said he was someone Dis would listen to, and that was almost enough to confirm Nori’s theory. The lack of speech only helped—after all, he had not said a word that Nori was aware of since Thranduil had taken over. Indeed, Nori was glad that they were both out of that place, that they, at least, would be safe.

Not that he said anything about it. He never addressed the other dwarf by name; there was no need to do so, with only two of them travelling together, and Nori had never respected rank enough to indicate it.

Nori had kept up a steady stream of chatter at first, in spite of the lack of an answer, but he had stopped as they crossed the mountains. It was too dangerous to make much noise, and talking to himself was rather depressing after the first month or two.

So they crossed the mountains in silence, nothing to break the monotony but their own thoughts. Fortunately, their horse was strong and their provisions were plentiful, so it was merely a matter of navigating, which the other dwarf left up to Nori. Or at least, he never made any objections when Nori redirected them.

They rode for three months, only communicating in igleshmek when it was necessary, but at last, they reached the other side of the mountains. Nori was grateful as they rode down through the fields.

“ _We’ll have to stop in Rivendell_ ,” he signed to his companion. “ _We need rest…and Legolas was sympathetic to us. Perhaps Lord Elrond will be as well_.”

The only response he got was a slight tightening of arms around his waist, which he took as ascent, and Nori directed the horse in the direction of Rivendell.

It took far longer than he’d like to admit to get there, but that was because they had not had a proper rest in so long, and they still had so far to go. Nori had to admit, they looked pathetic. His hair had fallen out of its normal style, their clothes were all torn, and they were both very thin for dwarves. He only hoped that his companion was strong enough to face more elves right now.

To his immense surprise and consternation, Lord Elrond seemed to be waiting for them when they at last stumbled into the valley. “Welcome, Nori,” Lord Elrond said as they rode in. “We wondered when you would arrive.”

Nori tried not to glare. “I did not realize we were expected,” he said.

“We’ve received word of what is happening in the mountain,” Lord Elrond said. “Bilbo Baggins wrote and begged for aid. We’ve been waiting for someone to arrive, and we will help you reach Erid Luin.”

Nori bowed. “Thank you,” he said. His companion did not move.

“We have rooms for you,” Lord Elrond continued. “But first, Gandalf the Grey is waiting to greet you. Come.” He turned and led them inside.

Gandalf was indeed waiting for them in a parlor, looking extremely calm, and that was when Nori’s patience broke.

“Where have you been?” he demanded before the wizard could even speak. “We’ve been subjected to an evil woodelf’s rule for…I don’t know how many months now, honestly, and it’s bloody awful, and you’ve NOT HELPED US!”

Gandalf waited patiently. “I was casting out a necromancer,” he explained when Nori fell silent. “And that battle was long and difficult, and I have been recovering ever since. However, I do want to help you, Nori.”

“I’m sure you do, but that doesn’t make up for what’s happening!” Nori shouted. “Thorin is dead, Dain is dead, Fili is a puppet to Thranduil, my little brother was beaten half to death and I barely escaped with my life because Bilbo is clever! We need help, and we can’t get it! You’re damn lucky Bilbo can help us, and that Kili and I…”

The dwarf beside him caught his arm. Nori turned to look at him.

“I was on my way to Erid Luin,” Gandalf said. “To speak to Lady Dis. But I had to rest, just as you must rest. And I will help you, and make sure you get back before things get too bad.”

“You can’t know that,” Nori snapped. “Who knows how many people will die before we can get there? What Thranduil will do to them? What will happen to Fili?”

“I appreciate your concern, Nori,” Gandalf said. “And I will do what I can. But I cannot simply magic up a solution…even after we speak to Dis, I cannot say if she will be able to gather the forces to challenge Thranduil. She is a strong woman, but I do not know if she can unite the dwarves against someone so powerful.”

“Is that so?”

Nori turned as his companion spoke softly, the color quickly draining from his face. The other dwarf stepped forward and slowly lowered his hood.

Gandalf met his eye without flinching, though Nori gasped in shock.

Thorin Oakenshield stood in the parlor, his face pale and thin, but his eyes determined.


	19. Chapter 18: What Happened to Thorin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rule one of battle: Always check for a pulse.

“But…how?”

Thorin raised his eyebrow at Nori. “Obviously, the elf king is not as good at detecting a pulse as he thinks,” he said.

Nori fell back into a chair in shock. “You were dead,” he whispered. “I helped move your body to the tombs…”

“Aye, I was injured,” Thorin said. “Grievously so, I think...but it is a tale, and it is safe to tell it now, if we could have food?” That last was directed at Gandalf, who nodded.

“I will ring for something,” he said. “And you can explain what has happened.”

Thorin took the last seat at the table. “I met Thranduil on the battlefield,” he said. “Kili and I. We fought him…we almost overcame him before he got a lucky strike at my head…he should have taken it off.”

*

The battle was bloody, and loud, and the more Thorin thought about it, pointless. Oh, it was all well and good to fight over a rock when he was safe behind stone walls, but now that he was actually out here, he began to see that Bilbo might have had a point.

Not that it made any difference now. They were fighting, and the elves were quickly overwhelming them. Thorin moved through the field, fighting as hard as he could, his nephews at his side.

Or at least, one nephew. Fili was separated from them, but Kili was there, sticking to him like a bur, and Thorin was so grateful for that, that his nephew wouldn’t leave his side.

And there was Thranduil, and if they could defeat him…

But Thranduil was as skilled a warrior as Thorin had ever seen, and had no trouble with both him and Kili. Oh, they fought, sword and bow flashing quickly, but Thranduil had experience on his side, and his sword cut through Thorin’s defenses.

And there was pain in his head, blood streaming into his eyes, and Kili’s scream of rage and grief as the world went black.

*

The next thing he knew, he was…well, not anywhere that he could determine. There was light around him, and he was definitely standing on something, but he couldn’t see anything around him.

But he could hear well enough when there was a sudden voice speaking to him.

“Thorin, son of Thrain.”

He looked up, his face stone. “I am Thorin,” he said.

“Your greed and your selfishness have led you here,” the voice continued. “You have let the curse of your forefathers rule your life.”

Thorin lowered his head in shame. He was pretty sure he knew who was speaking now. “My Maker, I am sorry for what I have wrought.”

Mahal didn’t seem interested in accepting apologies. “Your kin will suffer for this. They will not wander, but they will be enslaved. They will be in pain. Some will even come to curse the line of Durin.”

Thorin closed his eyes. There was no use being proud now, and he began to weep. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “If I could take it back…if I could change this…”

“Would you?” Mahal’s voice was suddenly quiet. “Would you take the chance to right all your wrongs?”

“Yes,” Thorin said. “But…I’m dead, aren’t I? What can I do now?”

“You are not dead.” Thorin looked up, surprised, though he still couldn’t see anything. “You are injured, certainly, and if we thought you wouldn’t seek redemption, you would be dead. But there is another matter at hand. One of the children of Eru has fallen prey to the darkness. He had lost all semblance of the light, and his mind grows ever more wicked. It is he who makes our people suffer.” Thorin thought he could hear footsteps, but he wasn’t sure. “You will awaken soon,” Mahal said. “And once you do, you must seek to save the mountain again. Drive the false king out…take the darkness from the world as best as you can.” A hand touched his cheek, though Thorin still could not see it. “Our judgment will wait until your full life has passed.”

The light faded, as did the hand on his face, and Thorin woke up.

*

It took far longer than Thorin liked to admit before he realized where he was. To be fair, though, it was very dark, and his head hurt a lot. He was also very hungry and he wondered how much time had passed.

He managed, after some minutes, to determine he was in the tombs of Erebor, lying on a stone slab, as though waiting for burial. Couldn’t have been too long, then, if no one had even given him a funeral. He sat up slowly, gritting his teeth as the pain spiked, and slowly, oh so slowly, managed to get to his feet. He swayed for a moment, his eyes still adjusting to the dark.

Well, nowhere to go but up. He took a stumbling step, then another, trying to determine how to get to the door.

There was a scuffling noise somewhere nearby. Thorin turned toward the source of the sound but saw nothing. He frowned—the noise had been too great for a rat to make.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice hoarse and not very loud.

Somewhere to his left, somebody screamed.

*

“Three weeks.” Bilbo’s eyes were wide, even in the darkness of the tombs. “You were dead for three weeks.”

They had retreated to a small corner as soon as Bilbo had calmed down, where there was a sort of nest of blankets set up, stacks of books cutting it off from the tombs, bits of paper and pilfered items scattered about. It wasn’t cozy, but there was a sort of Hobbitish charm to it.

“Dwarves are made of hardy stuff,” Thorin said with a shrug. “And the Valar said I could redeem myself…they probably had something to do with it.” He took a sip of the water Bilbo had fetched for him once the Hobbit had calmed down. “So what happened to my kingdom?”

And Bilbo told him everything, about Thranduil declaring himself King Under the Mountain, about Fili trying to resist but folding when Kili was hurt, about Dain’s execution and about the company and their pain and struggles. Thorin listened quietly until he was done, then nodded.

“I will return to Erid Luin,” he declared. “Gather my forces…return when I can.”

“You’re not strong enough,” Bilbo argued. “You just woke up and you’re starved and still injured…and you’d get lost.”

They argued a while, but Thorin eventually won, on condition that he rest a little while and take someone with him.

*

Of all the people Thorin would want to take with him, Nori was pretty far down the list. Bilbo didn’t have time to explain why he’d been chosen, and Thorin didn’t have time to ask.

He kept his hood up and his voice silent throughout the journey, unwilling to risk the safety of the mission. Not that he didn’t trust Nori to keep a secret—he knew the dwarf was good at holding his tongue when he needed to. But even the chance of Thranduil learning that Thorin still lived was enough to keep Thorin hiding until they had crossed the mountains and reached Rivendell.

“And here we are,” Thorin concluded. “Safe and well, and ready to fetch Dis and whatever army she’s managed to dig up for us.”

“You’ve still got a ways to go,” Gandal said. “And then it will take at least six months for you to take a full army back to Erebor.”

“Which is why I’m so glad you’re here,” Thorin said. “I know you can help us move faster if you want to, Gandalf, and I would appreciate it if you would help.”

Gandalf sighed. “I’ll do what I can,” he agreed. “But for now, you two need to recover your strength.”


	20. Chapter 19: What Happened to Dis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The army is ready.

She saw the horses almost from the moment they came in sight and hurried to meet them. She had gotten word from Rivendell just a few weeks before and she had to be there.

And it was him, thin and a bit pale, but alive and as majestic as ever. He didn’t quite fall off the horse—that would be undignified. But he did slip off it rather quickly and run to embrace her. She fell into his arms, clutching him close and sobbing.

He held her for a moment before he pulled back. “Is everything ready?” he asked seriously.

“As ready as it will be,” she said. “When I told them you were alive…that you were coming…I suddenly had a flurry of dwarves signing up.” She smiled. “It’s the effect you have on them…they’re ready to hear you now.”

Thorin nodded. “Nori, come with me,” he ordered. “You can give a better summary of what’s happened than I can.”

Nori nodded and slid off the horse, leaving it with Gandalf to take care of, and followed his true king back into the halls of Erid Luin.

Lady Dis fell back to speak to him. Nori was a bit surprised—he didn’t think the woman had ever even noticed his existence before.

“My sons,” she said. “Are they…?”

“They’re alive,” Nori assured her. “Or were when we left, and I do not think Thranduil would risk killing them. Killing Kili would make him lose control of Fili, and killing Fili would make him lose control of everyone else. Having a dwarf as king—even as figurehead king—lends legitimacy to his tyranny.”

“But…”

“They are hurt, my lady,” Nori said. He couldn’t lie to her. “Kili…I do not know that he can recover from what’s been done to him. But they will not die, and we will save them…and we will help them afterwards.”

“Thank you,” she said, and the set of her jaw was so like Thorin’s that Nori couldn’t imagine why an army wouldn’t just follow her.

The dwarves were waiting in the common hall, and it looked like the entire population of the mountain old enough to hold an axe was there. Nori glanced around at the mercenaries he’d worked with in the past, at the miners he’d known in the good times, at the people he recognized from Dori’s shop. He spotted Gloin’s wife and son in the crowd, and Bombur’s wife as well. He felt a bit out of place, standing at Thorin’s left hand, Dis on the right, but he supposed he could get used to it.

As soon as Thorin stepped into the room, the dwarves all rose to their feet, cheering for him. He watched them, his face expressionless, and let them scream for a while before he raised his hand for silence.

“My people,” he called. “Two years ago, I set off to reclaim the Lonely Mountain and the kingdom of Erebor from the dragon Smaug. This task was accomplished with help from thirteen of the bravest people I have ever met.”

There was a bit of uncomfortable shifting from the dwarves who had declined to go on the venture, but Thorin did not seem angry with them.

“I come to you now because the mountain has once again fallen, but this time not to a dragon, but to an elf. An elf who has lost the light and who has now enslaved our brethren in those halls, to do his bidding.”

Shouts of protest and anger broke out. Thorin waited another moment before he once again silenced them.

“I call on you now to follow me back to Erebor, to reclaim our homeland once again. This time, an army will be necessary to save those we have left behind. My sister has already asked—and now I must beg for each of you to aid us. The elf-king’s army is strong, and while there are those even among his people who will help us, we cannot rely on them, and we must fight if we are to have our mountain.”

A roar of noise met this proclamation, as every dwarf shouted out vows of fealty and revenge. Nori glanced at Dis, who only stood there looking fierce.

Thorin once again raised his hand for silence. “Prepare your arms and armor if it is not already done,” he commanded. “We march at dawn.”


	21. Chapter 20: What Happened to Bilbo, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year and the time has come.

One year. One entire year of Thranduil’s rule.

Bilbo was amazed that so many of the dwarves had survived it. Sure, they were a hardy race, but Thranduil’s reign was…well, the dwarves were all so tired of fighting.

But it was about to end. Bilbo gave no sign, even as he passed messages around, but he did start making a few arrangements. Weapons started disappearing from the treasury, or being bought from Dale or recovered from the elves and hidden in strategic but hidden places. Armor as well, though this was more easily missed as it was all too short and wide for elves to make use of.

Messages from Bard and Legolas came to him, informing him that they were ready when he was, then, a few weeks later, another message from Legolas, with the information that a large army of dwarves had arrived and how long should he keep them?

Bilbo smiled and sent a message back.

Two days later, he went down to Dale and met two dwarves in a low and noisy tavern.

“We’ll start with getting you back inside,” he whispered. “Then you can work on freeing the prisoners and getting them whatever treatment you can. I’ll have Dis and Legolas bring their armies as soon as it’s done.”

“The dwarves must be rallied,” Thorin murmured. “They must know the time has come, somehow.”

“I’ll see to it,” Bilbo promised. “I just need to be sure everyone is in place…I doubt Thranduil will notice two more dwarves hanging around if you stay out of the way.”

“We’ll need a signal to get the ones inside fighting,” Nori said. “Something they’ll know without having to be told.”

“I know, I’ve already got it in mind,” Bilbo said. “But I’ll need you two inside to move everything outwards.”

“I don’t know,” Thorin said musingly. “Having him be told there’s a very large army camped outside might work.”

“Oh, that’s part of the plan,” Bilbo said. “But it won’t get the ones inside motivated enough, I think…they really need something to tell them. Besides, you proved already that Thranduil could just sit inside and ignore the army if he wanted to. We have to force him out.”

“All right,” Thorin said. “We’ll go back in with you…if we can.”

*

“Dis will bring her army up,” Bilbo said a few days later. “We need a distraction and that’s a pretty big one.”

“Good,” Thorin murmured. They were back in the tombs, in Bilbo’s nest, waiting to make their move. “We’ll free the prisoners while you signal the others.”

“Got key copies?” Nori asked.

Thorin raised his eyebrows. “Naturally,” he said. “I’ve kept them on me for over a century.”

“Make sure to get to the lowest cells,” Bilbo said.

“We know,” Nori said.

“Good.” Bilbo put his ring on. “Tonight, then…I need to go borrow a few things.”

*

“Bofur!”

Bofur jerked. “Yes?” he hissed.

“Need to borrow your carving tools,” Bilbo whispered. “And…and when the elves find out…”

“I don’t care,” Bofur said. “Do what you must.”

“I’ll make sure you live,” Bilbo promised.

*

“Your Majesty, there seems to be an army outside.”

Thranduil sighed. He was surprised it had taken this long. “Very well,” he said. “Have as many guards as can be spared come up.”

Fili bowed and went to deliver the message, his breathing heavy. The army outside had to be from Erid Luin—he’d not seen them personally, only been told by a guard.

He delivered the message throughout the kingdom, even down to the dungeons. His eyes lingered on the far door, wondering what was even inside anymore, but he did not dare ask. About half the guards left, and Fili followed them.

Until he felt a small hand on his wrist.

“The time is now,” Bilbo hissed. “Stay here…they’ll need some help, and after today, it won’t matter.”

Fili had to trust him. He fell back and waited in the shadows until the guards were gone.

“I have your knives,” Bilbo murmured, beginning to press them into Fili’s hands. “Or as many as I could get…take the guards out.”

Fili nodded, steeled himself, then took a flying leap at the nearest one.

He moved as quickly as he could, trusting Thranduil to be too distracted to acknowledge an alarm. He killed the first elf easily and turned to the others…

Only to find them already engaged in battle with a second dwarf, who was very quick and played dirty. Fili couldn’t help but grin and join in, especially when rocks started flying out of nowhere and braining any elf that Fili and Nori couldn’t take.

A moment later, all the elves lay dead or unconscious and the doors were already being opened by a third dwarf, who wore a hood and didn’t speak. Fili glanced at Nori, whose face was impassive.

“Weapons are stashed,” Bilbo said. “I’ll be off now.”

“You’d better get upstairs as well,” Nori said to Fili. “Before the elf-king misses you.”

Fili nodded and headed upstairs, only stopping off to change into clothes not covered in blood.

*

Bilbo ran to the now-empty throne room. He jumped up on the throne and climbed as high as he could, until he was precariously balanced on the back, and reached as high as he could.

The first cut ran deeper than he’d expected, and he was relieved. He had been afraid that this would take too long, but of course the tools in his hand were pristine and well cared-for.

Down…across…down…across…down…

He couldn’t hear anyone coming—clearly Dis was keeping Thranduil busy at the gate, which was exactly what they needed.

Down…across…across…across…

Sweat ran down Bilbo’s back, but he kept gouging the stone out, writing out his message.

Down…down…down…down…

He finished just as he heard voices from outside, shouting and cursing. He finished quickly and carefully climbed back off the throne before slipping out through a hidden door.

It was a pity he couldn’t see Thranduil’s expression, but he did hear the cry of rage and shock as the message was read.

THE TRUE KING LIVES.


	22. Chapter 21: What Happened to Bofur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The call has come and someone will be punished for it.

Word quickly spread throughout the mountain.

Lady Dis had arrived at Erebor, an army behind her, Dale and half the elves of Mirkwood having joined her side. The prisoners below had all been released somehow and escaped, no doubt to join the army or just to get as far away as possible, and there was now a message carved above the throne of Erebor, shining out a message for all to see as they were gathered in that morning.

THE TRUE KING LIVES.

Murmurs broke out among the dwarves as they read it. Surely it couldn’t mean what they all thought it did? If it did, why had it taken a year? No, no, it must simply be a signal that the time was right to rise up, to overthrow the elf king and place Fili back on the throne that was rightfully his.

Bofur only hoped that the uprising would actually start soon, because he was the only one without carving tools at the moment. Sure, he had told Bilbo to do what he had to, but he really didn’t fancy losing his head when they were so close to a revolution.

Thranduil was seated on the throne, looking murderous. Fili was beside him, keeping his expression carefully blank, though Bofur could tell that his true king knew far more about what was going on than he was letting on.

“Someone carved a message,” Thranduil said as soon as the dwarves were gathered. “And I would like to know who.”

No one spoke. Bofur’s breath quickened a bit.

“There is an army outside, the prisoners have all escaped, and now this,” Thranduil continued. “I will know who is responsible, or you will all be killed!”

Bifur squeezed Bofur’s hand. Bombur patted his other arm and Bofur knew what he had to do. They’d find his tools soon enough anyway.

He stepped forward and walked the length of the hall, meeting the eyes of every dwarf in turn…except two at the back, covered in cloaks and keeping out of the way.

He reached the throne and stood proudly. “It is my responsibility,” he said carefully. Don’t betray Bilbo. Don’t give him up now. This had to be part of his plan.

Thranduil raised his eyebrows. “Your name?”

“Bofur,” Bofur said. “We’ve met before.”

“Ah, yes,” Thranduil said. “And you claim responsibility?”

“I do.” Bofur glanced at Fili, who only looked sad. But there was the tiniest nod from him, and Bofur knew he would be all right.

Thranduil stood up and drew his sword. Bofur kept his eyes on Fili as he deliberately took off his hat and threw it back into the crowd, like a bride tossing her bouquet at a wedding, before he knelt and bowed his head.

“NO!”

The scream was heard throughout the silent room. Bofur’s head jerked as Thranduil turned toward the source. There was a moment before Bilbo flickered into view, stepping through the doorway and walking deliberately down the hall.

“He did not carve the message,” Bilbo said. “Merely provided the tools to do so. I carved it.” Sting was in his hand, ready to go. “I’m the one who’s been carrying messages between the dwarves and providing them with what they needed. I helped the thief Nori escape and I orchestrated the army outside your walls.” He stepped in front of Bofur and raised his sword. “And I am here to tell you, elf king, that your rein has ended and you will not harm these dwarves again.”

“And who will stop me?” Thranduil snarled. “The army outside cannot breach these walls.”

“No,” Bilbo said. “But the army inside can.” He raised his sword. “BARUK KHAZAD!”

And from all around the room, the response came. “KHAZAD AI-MENU!”

The two dwarves in hoods moved. One darted to a hidden door and opened it. There was a lot of shouting and fighting, but Bofur did not turn to look, his focus entirely on the second dwarf who shoved past his fellows, drawing a sword and lowering his hood at the same time.

For the rest of his life, Bofur would not forget the look on Thranduil’s face when Thorin Oakenshield stepped up beside Bilbo.

“We told you,” Thorin said softly. “The true king lives.” He raised his sword. “So get the fuck out of my kingdom.”


	23. Chapter 22: What Happened to Thranduil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A billion apologies for how long this chapter took. My last semester of college was kicking my ass and I'm bad at action scenes so I ended up putting it off. But here it is, and the epilogue should be finished this week!

The moment the guards started dropping, Gloin was on his feet, ignoring the pain. It was time. It had to be.

Silence fell and the door opened. Gloin looked up just to see a quick shadow move down to the next cell. He heard voices, Fili and Bilbo and…yes, that was Nori. Gloin moved out of his cell just as Fili took off.

Nori nodded to him, waiting until the rest of the block was free. The dwarf with the keys came over and handed the ring to Nori.

“Did you find Kili?” Nori murmured.

The hooded dwarf nodded and held up a key.

“All right,” Nori said. “We’ll meet you down below when Bilbo’s finished.” He turned to the ragged crew. “Follow me. We’re getting the ones below.”

They moved down. Gloin moved close to Nori. “Who was that?” he hissed.

Nori merely raised his eyebrows. “The King,” he said.

“But Fili went upstairs.”

“I know.”

Gloin stared for a moment. “But…”

“Don’t worry,” Nori said. “We have a plan.” He turned to the assembled dwarves. “All right. Those who can fight, there are weapons stashed all along this passage. Those who can’t, there’s a passage to the tombs here.” He opened a small door, too small for the elves. “Go down there and recover. The rest of you, grab your weapons and follow. We’ll meet there to make a plan.”

There was a moment of hesitation before they obeyed. Gloin went to find an axe, wondering at what Nori could have meant.

*

Nori moved quickly through the lower cells, opening every door he found. Most were empty, until he came to the lowest ones.

And finally, finally he found his brother.

“Ori!”

Ori was lying on the floor. He was pale and thin, far too thin, but uninjured. Nori rushed to him. “Ori!”

His eyes opened. “Is it over?” he whispered harshly.

“Almost,” Nori said. “We’re breaking out now…we’re going to fight in the morning, or you can stay below and rest…but you have to move first.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Ori…”

“They killed him…we tried to escape and…it was his plan, and I followed, because you know I would never leave him…”

“Who?”

“Dwalin. Thranduil killed him, he’s dead…I can’t, Nori, you know…”

“No.” Nori petted Ori’s hair. “Bilbo told me…Dwalin is alive. Thranduil lied to you.”

Ori stared at him. “But…”

“Would I lie about this?”

Ori sat up. “You’re sure?”

“He’s a few cells down…but these cells are built to block out sound.”

The light flared in Ori’s eyes. “Take me to him,” he commanded, and when had Nori ever said no? He pulled Ori to his feet and they moved quickly.

Nori found the last door and unlocked it. “Dwalin!” he called.

Dwalin sat against the back wall, his head down, but at Nori’s voice he looked up. “Nori?”

“We’re leaving. Come on!”

“I can’t…Nori, I don’t…”

“Dwalin.”

Dwalin looked past Nori. Ori moved into the light.

There was a moment where they just stared at each other before Dwalin rose and slowly walked forward, as though in a dream. “Have I died?” he asked.

“No,” Ori said. “No, we’re both alive…the elf king lied to us.” He moved toward Dwalin, gazing at him. “My love…”

Nori turned away. “When you two are finished, we’re going down to the tombs,” he said. “Or you can stay here if you don’t want to fight.”

“Of course we’re fighting,” Dwaling growled. “Bastard left us with our own heads for months…let me think that I’d killed you…”

“You didn’t,” Ori said.

There was a moment of silence before Nori coughed. “Right…weapons are up a level. Come on.”

*

He was going to die.

He knew that now. He’d heard the fighting outside, knew that it meant it was over. Thranduil would kill him, and Fili, and it would be over. He couldn’t go on.

The door opened. Yes, that would be his king, ready to execute him. And Kili knew that he was right. Thranduil loved him, but he couldn’t be kept alive. He would face his end gladly, if it would save Fili.

It wouldn’t.

But he would still…

“Kili.”

That wasn’t Thranduil’s voice. Maybe he was already dead.

“Kili, look at me.”

He didn’t move. If he was dead, then he was going to enjoy it.

But it hadn’t stopped hurting.

“We’re fighting. We’re getting you out.”

There was no fighting. No one would survive. The elves would kill them all.

Silence fell, for how long he wasn’t sure. But then there were footsteps and then the soft clatter of something being set beside him.

“Bilbo found your bow and arrows. They’re here for you…if you want to join us.”

The footsteps retreated and the door closed, but there was no click of a lock. Kili rolled over and stared at it for a long time.

*

Thorin slipped down to the tombs. There, he found Nori with the dozen prisoners he’d released. Smiling slightly, Thorin threw off his cloak.

There were gasps from the assembled dwarves, but Thorin ignored them, taking his place at the front of the room. There was a pause, then by instinct Balin and Dwalin moved to stand at either side of him, as they always had. Thorin felt his shoulders relax at having his most loyal friends next to him again.

“There are weapons placed throughout the mountain,” he said without preamble. “We’re going to pick up what we can tonight. Tomorrow, the elf king will call a meeting. Nori and I will be there. The rest of you will be behind a hidden door to the throne room. At the signal, you’ll come in. Throw what weapons you can to your comrades, and then start on the elves and get them outside, where my sister is waiting with an army.”

There were nods of approval from the assembly. None of them dared make noise.

Thorin nodded and made to step down, but Balin caught his arm. “Your Majesty, I believe we’re owed an explanation,” he said pointedly.

“And you’ll get one, after the battle,” Thorin said. “For now, we need to finish retrieving weapons and then sleep.”

*

“Baruk Khazad!”

“Khazad ai-menu!”

As the dwarves from below started fighting, the hall was oddly quiet when Thorin announced his presence. Bilbo wasn’t sure whose expression was better, Thranduil’s or Fili’s.

Fortunately, Thranduil was so completely shocked that the dwarves who had escaped the dungeons were able to distribute a good amount of weapons to their equally shocked compatriots without anyone interfering.

But that was momentary, as Thranduil still had a sword in hand. He recovered from his surprise and raised it. “So you survived,” he hissed.

“I did,” Thorin said. “By the will of the Valar and the strength of my people, I survived. And I have come to reclaim my throne, from you or anyone else who stands in my way.”

Thranduil swung his sword. Thorin moved to deflect it and the fight was on.

Fili produced his knives and leapt into the fray, joining his uncle against Thranduil. Bilbo, satisfied that the two of them could handle this, turned and ran for the backdoor.

He reached it quickly and threw it open, running down to where Dis’s army was camped. “We’ll need some help inside,” he told her when he reached her. “To get them out here.”

“Can do,” Dis said. She selected a few warriors and then followed Bilbo back inside and to the throne room.

The fight was already beginning to move toward the gate. With a cry, Dis and her warriors jumped in, effectively forcing the elves to move away from the throne room. The elves pressed back with their swords and it did not take long before the fighting had spread through the mountain and out toward the gates.  Bilbo couldn’t keep track of what was happening, so he focused on staying alive as the gate burst open, though he didn’t know whether Dis had opened it to let her army in or the elves had opened it to gain more space. All he knew was that as soon as the gate fell and the fighting spilled outside, hundreds of arrows flew from the waiting army and the battle was in full swing.

There was shouting, orders in Khuzdul and Sindarin and Westron competing with each other as the forces Thorin had brought fell on the elves coming from the mountain. Bilbo, well-satisfied that everything was under control, slipped away and put his ring on. He did not fancy being killed out here. He then started moving through the battle, looking for Thorin.

He found Thorin and Thranduil engaged in a fierce battle near the gate. Fili was guarding Thorin’s back, and the expression of pure rage on Thranduil’s face was almost comical.

“You have turned my own people against me!” Thranduil snarled, aiming a blow at Thorin’s neck.

Thorin managed to spin away and deliver a blow of his own toward Thranduil’s heart. “You turned him away when you lost the light,” Thorin answered.

The swing missed, grazing Thranduil’s armor. Bilbo looked around desperately for a way he could help and that’s when he spotted a small figure at the top of the wall. “Kili!” Bilbo called.

Thranduil, Thorin and Fili all turned. Kili stood at the top of the wall, his eyes wide, an arrow notched in his bow. He was aiming it toward the combatants, though who he intended to shoot, Bilbo wasn’t certain.

“Kili!” Fili called. “Kili, come down!”

Kili shook his head. He raised the bow with trembling hands and took aim. He took a breath, but his hands shook and the arrow was released. Bilbo watched as the arrow flew down and landed perfectly in Thranduil’s throat.

There was a moment of silence as everyone nearby turned towards them. The elf king’s eyes were wide and disbelieving. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out as Thranduil fell dead.

“Kili!” Fili called again.

Kili stared at the elf king’s body with wide eyes for a moment. He took a step forward and his eyes grew wider as his feet slipped.

“KILI!”

Fili and Thorin were already running toward the wall, but they had barely moved before Kili hit the ground.


	24. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. Last chapter, bit earlier than expected. I hope you all enjoy it and thanks for reading!

There was silence over the battlefield. Fili and Thorin reached Kili. Fili knelt beside his brother, searching for a pulse.

After a moment, or perhaps an eternity, he looked up and shook his head. “He’s dead,” he said, his voice distant.

“Are you sure?” Thorin asked.

“Yes,” Fili said. He bent his head over his brother, tears already falling from his eyes.

The elves and dwarves were silent for a moment before Thorin turned to them. “Thranduil Oropherion is dead,” he said. “The King of the Elves and ruler of this mountain has fallen to my kinsmen. As such, I claim this mountain by right of my people.”

The elves blinked, then turned as one to Legolas. The elven prince was weary, pale, saddened by fighting his own people, but he met Thorin’s eye.

“We accept your claim,” he said. “And we offer whatever retribution you seek for the harm done to you people.”

Thorin shook his head. “Enough blood has been spilled between our peoples,” he said. “Go back to your forest. Find the light that still lies there. And perhaps, someday, we will be able to be allies again.”

*

Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that. The dwarves reentered the mountain. They buried their dead, they treated their wounded. They repaired what damage they could, but it wasn’t enough. None of it was enough.

Fili couldn’t take it. His uncle was back on the throne, but his brother was dead and his mother was wracked with grief. He couldn’t comfort her. This was all his fault. He was the one who had let his brother suffer and die.

So as soon as the throne room emptied, Fili approached his uncle. “My King, I wish to depart.”

Thorin blinked. “Why?” he asked.

“I have dishonored you, and the line of Durin. I allowed my people to suffer, and my brother to die. I am not fit to stand beside you, nor am I fit to be your heir.”

“Fili,” Thorin said. “You kept them alive. You tried to protect them. They all told me…they said you tried to help them, that you kept Bilbo nearby, that you took their punishment…why would I banish you?”

“Thorin,” Fili said. “I…” He took a shuddering breath and produced his shortest knife. “I cannot stay here. Perhaps you do not see my actions as shameful, but I do, and I do not wish to remain.” Fili raised the knife and cut the braids from his hair and beard. Thorin made no move as Fili placed them before the throne. “I must go,” he said.

Thorin nodded slowly. “If you feel so strongly about it, I will grant you leave,” he said. “Go where you will, and when you have regained your honor, you will return and stand beside me as my heir.” He stood and went down, knocking his forehead to Fili’s. “Be well, my sister-son.”

*

“You’re going, then?” Bofur didn’t look surprised as he leaned on the wall of Bilbo’s room.

Bilbo nodded. “I can’t stay here,” he said. “Too many bad memories…I need to go home. You understand.”

Bofur nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”

Bilbo smiled at his friend. “I’m just glad I was able to save most of you.”

“Kili’s death was not your fault,” Bofur said. “He fell…it was an accident.”

“Was it?” Bilbo asked. “I’m not so sure…he knew that wall wasn’t very wide. Why would he step forward and not go down the steps?”

“You really think…?”

“What they did to him…he couldn’t have recovered.” Bilbo blinked back tears. “Maybe this was better.”

There was a knock on the door and Fili came in, his head down and his hair short. “Bilbo,” he said. “I would ask leave to accompany you to the Shire, so that I might obtain some peace.”

Bilbo studied him for a moment, then nodded. “I would be glad to have you,” he said.

*

They set out a few days later, well-provisioned and with Gandalf next to them. Bilbo only looked back once, to see Thorin and the rest of the company on the wall, waving them off.

Fili smiled tightly at them before he turned his pony to go. As he and Bilbo and Gandalf rode off to the west, he breathed just a little bit easier.


End file.
